Paradise
The shrouds of clouds slim whim accost the sun —
The phat and fat, ruddy red and horizon muddy one.
Underscore of wavy grass, a sea of bees, life’s core.
A hiss of bliss, a slap, a tap of tippy-toe on crazy shore.
The forest rests on the pregnant breast of the fireball.
The teasing test of wheezing labor on a neighbor’s shawl.
The quake of vermillion beads, the wake of creation’s seeds.
No weeds in rebirth, the girth of bittersweet tease, broken water bleeds.
Crusty-Winter’s crossed. Trim sails from rusty nails and splinter’s cross.
Behold the boast from coast to coast, warm the cold, the lost.
10/4/2018
Battle XI/Sponsor - Juli-Michelle
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