Sixes
It's six o'clock,
but not for the birds,
for them, it's four-play.
God says,"Be there, or be square,"
because He's Lord of the times,
not Jehovah of old, knows
that slang and jargon,
keep the young in the fold.
Winter-white in a summer made
snowy, sea gulls assemble,
"aide memoire" who rules here.
They've mastered the moves,
but he's the conductor, and I, lady
of the lake have a season pass
for these Swan Lake show-stoppers,
their circles and dives, their "pas
de deux's", or sixes, or sevens, that
finish in the clouds in a curtain call
unfound by the married to ground.
God sends His ballet each day
where it belongs. Take Heart! He
says: My birds are words
beyond language, beyond
wings, beyond songs.
Copyright © Nola Perez | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment