Bill Yates Poet Free verse

Notes About The Poem

When you read my poems, do not expect fanciful rhymes.  I am not inspired by Hallmark cards on the shelves at Walmart.

Clover Out of Mud

Something comes to mind;
It is no evil thing.
Objectified it stands,
Sings loudly with open mouth,
Nearly speechless.
So is the volume turned up,
Turned on
When frogs croak
In muddy ponds
And tadpoles wink the day.

The field is all clover--
Pure;
It feeds the sky,
Pleases the eye,
Is false 
Like some lovers.
Frogs are lovers,
Hopping.

People hop too--
Skip, jump, dance
Nightly by the moon,
Restless as sin.
Then they croak.
Where do they go?
They inhabit the hollows;
Their breath is fire.

Personification is no
Evil thing--
A gift, perhaps.
Out of the mud come frogs
In their season.
People inhabit the mud
As well--
Splattered and spotted
Like freckles
They come.

Random is the field of clover
Growing,
Eating the mud,
Feasting like vultures.
The body lies down in clover;
It is covered,
It is decked out in glory
The glory of clover,
All fresh.

Out of the mud 
comes a phantom.
He drips with slime.
He carries his pride
Like a tomahawk.
He is clean shaven.
There is no regret.
Wanting peace he comes,
And she the wolf-hound
Is waiting.

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Mahtab Bangalee June 22, 2021 at 10:25 PM the tadpoles, out of the mud and watery clay but the toxic hungry tongue of the world doesn't allow it to live independently!~~~

Kate Simpson February 24, 2015 at 5:00 PM Very nice, Bill! Skip, jump, and dance reminds me of childhood games!

Anthony Bianco February 23, 2015 at 7:29 AM That's what I call poetry, Nice work Bill. Anthony Bill Yates February 23, 2015 at 7:40 AM Thanks for having a discerning eye (or ear?).

Njeri Hunjeri February 22, 2015 at 7:16 PM Enjoyed the read! I like "frogs are lovers,hopping" Bill Yates February 22, 2015 at 7:20 PM Thank you very much.