Raindrops In a Passion Cup
Ripples from a rain fill a bowl of passion.
Small ducks quacking in a waddled fashion.
A light breeze blew across the soft fur.
The brown beach beckons for one to occur.
Making stained-glass-like hand gesture.
As a stepping stone leading to a joy banner.
To the sky, a foreboding twilight blue.
The cleft is ruffled and tossed through.
Marigolds remain in the midst of serenity.
Shrinkage of the feeble results in nullity.
With mother's thinking resolves all hope.
To the summit of a dizzyingly steep slope.
In the shape of a duck cloud, it is resting.
Fields are flung at the worst of the gathering.
I finally started by plucking a vibrant blossom.
I went up the tower, like a gentle heirloom.
They're diminishing, like dewdrops on grain.
Against a red sky, lost echoes suck up the pane.
Written: April 13, 2022
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