Leaves of the oak trees congregated in clumps of whispering soldiers
A devilment was afoot; the fey felt this and scurried to the meadow.
Someone was dragging a heavy sack into the darkest shadows.
The night shuddered, recognizing the evilness of the scoundrel.
Perfect place to hide a body, most agreed. Those who were brave to look.
Others hid behind stumps and rocks, hoping the culprit’s thirst was sated.
He has been here before, always leaving flesh that turns to putridness.
Finally whitening and stiffening into a stick-like corpse.
The evil doer did not give the trees or the sack a backward glance.
This was his dumping ground; he felt no reverence for it in the least.
A place to leave the shell of the people he hunted and killed.
Look in the chamberpot
There you will find
Some agent of darkness
The Foul Fiend left behind
The sordid element
The secrets they keep
And the dank crannies
Wherein they do creep
There is no sin so scarlet
That they will not partake
They would pawn their own mothers
For foul pharmacy's sake
Note that these scoundrels
Have fallen from grace
Even beasts of the field
Loath the sight of their face
Hail thee, dear friend!
And be Utmost alert
For drug fueled thieves
Lurk unseen in the dirt
And most of all, Attend!
To safekeep your very life
Madmen in the shadows
Delight in your strife
Did I push hard enough for purple? Asked Morse.
It is the color I wanted on my house of course
a fantasy of mine shown in kitchen fan and horse
One color is great, agreed his yes man, Borse.
What kind of game is this, if you please?
This question came from the sandwich of cheese.
I think purple is wonderful, the butler said.
Looking fine in glossy and flat, it makes a fine bed.
Keep sucking up, the lettuce promptly said.
I will lug you around and bump your head.
You all sound mean to me, the monkey croaked.
the key to getting along is playing, frog joked.
ancient Aztec communication mask
with her brilliant fluorescent lines
comes alive in the deepest recesses of the caves
unseen by humans
revered by spirits of the otherworld
mysticism is afoot
Sea horse mania is afoot
I see them in my sleep
Thanks to a collector daughter
They prance and neigh
Ridiculous I think
There is loud laughter
A splash from my water glass
Two land on my bedside table
When sleep's afoot
roaming the hills
Will pillows deign pursuit...
Yet when dreams linger
waking's a beggar
knocking at your door
"Lo, there be Giants under foot
In just a moment I'm going to face my Giants
I am just an ant on a hill Looking around me for the foot of danger
I hear the swift sounds of the wind
As the foot comes down around me almost on top of me
I running flea I let my six legs compel me
Scaffolding like a leaf in the wind I flee
Beware the foot of the giant don't become complacent compliant
Be defiant
For if he steps on you
You're through it's the end of your world our world
I decided myself to hide in the cabin caverns beneath the Sun the moon the stars Disguise tunneling away from disaster and let not the monster giant be my master"
Today when and once i awoke
Much like any other day
With no or other apparent reason
After giving up all hope of hope
And instead of wishing time would
stop and for the end to come
I felt something foreign the
strangest thing as if a
blast from my past
As for a single second i remembered
what i was feeling was in fact the
sensation of being happy
And somehow had been granted
my lifetime wish
Only for my joy to be tempered
by the simple fact
I couldn't for the life of me
logically understand or
comprehend
Why ?
Because i am still me the very same
person that fell asleep last night only
to awake today
So how come all of a sudden given
i haven't done anything deserving
since dusk till dawn
As i can't think or in anyway explain
how i have gone from misery to happy
The only thing different or actually changed
Was i finally gave up praying and
wishing for my prayers to be answered
Maybe it's because i have eventually
now exhausted both the patience
of the living and Springsteen himself
But hey that's life
I was always told and new
from day one there's a hell
of a price to pay
CORONA'S AFOOT; GIVE TO THE POOR
Before Corona there were rich and poor,
Developed countries and developing ones,
Individuals knocking on fortune's door,
While others were her daughters and sons.
On arrival, Corona ransacked the space,
Shattering with baton in hand!
Every economy she would deface!
No language did she understand!
Wealthy countries were hardest hit,
While the most vulnerable better fared.
No nation had a cure in its kit
When this monster its ugly head reared!
Well to do airlines were brought down.
Millions of workers faced uncertain futures!
A new phenomenon called Lockdown
Fettered all key business ventures
Individuals with chests of cash,
And companies and governments alike,
Realised that this was a common lash
And extended a hand to thwart any spike.
To life came the words of a great teacher
Who used to say to the rich: "Give the poor",
And: "A foreigner can be your brother."
Corona brought his teachings to the fore!
(The Bible, at Matthew 19: 21; Luke 10: 33-37)
Three am now
Faerie magic is afoot
The witching hour
The house is silent
Spirits try for attention
I know they are here
I sense and smell them
Because my family is fey
Sometimes they throw things
Sherlock and Watson looked at the woman with blank expressions
What they had were some totally unique impressions
Watson was looking at her, thinking what a poor little thing
Sherlock was wishing the 221 Baker Street bell still did not ring
Her story was not sound in any sort of way to Sherlock who was not fooled.
Watson was ready to slay a dragon and help the woman, he needed to be schooled.
They heard about the dead body but there was no evidence in the least.
The forged papers were blurry, smeared and quite creased.
Her eyesight was not terrific, so Sherlock proved that she did not see what she said.
Watson was the one who figured out that without blood or a body no one was dead.
She was bipolar, and confused, a woman who simply needed her med.
So they sent her to a doctor who prescribed lithium and put her to bed.
E'er so oft the presence of breeze displays,
Through fluttering leaves of trees and branch sways,
A course, whereto, not set by the seasons,
'Tis the calm fore the storm being its reasons.
Days fore this, unbearable sweltering,
Heat intensity, felt so blistering,
'Twas shirtless men and loosely topped women,
It hit every locale, all was smitten.
In the distance, churning and swirling viewed,
Soon the dark immense will come as a brood,
And the present felt ease will become strong,
Set into motion that is not far long.
Unrelentless winds, and rising surges,
Rains, floods, and lightning, as the storm purges.
Date: 06/26/2019
Something's afoot
I picture it
I sense it
I detect it
I hearken
Something's stirring
It's moving
It's probing
It's pushing
It's clawing
Something's imminent
It's nearer now
It's drawing closer
It's - omg - alive
It's about to …
5
4
3
2
1
I can't bear to look --
You tell me what it is …
Oh, it's just your kid brother
Who buried himself alive
Emerging from the sand
Ho - hum!
A session with my chiropodist
Is an occasion not to be missed.
We speak of recipes and cruise ships
And other folks' relationships
And pension plans and how to lose weight
And allergies and things we hate
And Christmas plans and hip replacements,
And politics and financial statements,
And things from childhood we remember,
Like scaredy cats on the fifth of November
And what it takes a woman to please
And whether "feet" run in families.
We talk of restaurants we have found
And matters equally profound.
Is vegetarian or vegan best
And how to handle a telephone pest ?
Am I a Remainer or for Brexit
And what to do to try and correct it ?
And what do we make of Donald Trump,
A breath of fresh air or just a chump ?
The whole world sorted in half an hour
If Debbie and I were given the power.
And when we've covered our highs and lows
We'll even talk about my toes!
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