Deep in her sleep, the Princess mystically dreams.
Of dancing with bangled diamond and ruby bound ankles,
Upon satin pillows for her king.
She's swathed in opaque rainbow colors.
An opaque veil covering her face.
Her big brown eyes not for even one second,
Wander from her kingly lover's face.
For that would indeed be a disgrace.
Her finger cymbals play seductively, only for him.
To gain his sole, sensual, passionate attention.
Simply to he his alone, once more amorously again.
Is her satin pillow dreams, sole intention!
March 4, 2020
4pm PST
Categories:
bangled, dance, dream, sensual,
Form: Rhyme
Don't bother counting swallows,
I can tell you it's not summer yet.
Winter after winter follows and
my wager is as safe as wagers get
that speeches will be shallow
at the Tory Party Conference
where wearing bangled images of Frida Kahlo
does not inspire public confidence.
Maybe counting birds isn't such a bad suggestion;
but what season follows next, that is the question.
Categories:
bangled, image, irony, leadership, seasons,
Form: Political Verse
Three bangle bracelets
three initial charms, discrete
July birthday gift from my grandkids.
Three bangle bracelets
initially a set complete
until one bangle hit the skids.
Searching for a small bauble
proved very unsuccessful
December has too many places.
Searching for a new bauble
proved equally distressful,
I must buy a whole new bracelet.
Four months later a downpour
caused flooding along our ditch
checking it out, discovery!
Four months later that downpour
had washed my dogie from her niche
April rains had set her free.
Tatterdemalion
she looked deplorable and mangled
having spent months on the street.
Tatterdemalion
she looks adorable, re-bangled
now - good-luck charm – oft-beat.
written May 2, 2017
Categories:
bangled, nostalgia, recovery from,
Form: Verse
& the drummers are out
yes! out with their naked feet
aging feet full of shiny beads
with arms bangled to the hearts
of the ancient drums
their dexterous fingers dance
along, beating the drums with candour
it is like the die is cast
& the maidens are out at last
their soft feet stretching the throats
out of our ready drummers
their soft voices stretching the hearts
out of my ready hunters
& then young applause jumps to the sky
ah, who saw the maidens a-gone
with my hunters & their drummers?
Categories:
bangled, fantasy, mystery,
Form: I do not know?
Art in its truest form is
in the eye of the beholder
No two see a like
Each one has their own passion
what touches them is
different from what the
rest of the world beholds
For me beauty it is in
singing the Star Spangled
Banner and watching
people of all nations
in honor with pride
to be apart of the
land we call America
raise their hands in
honor and thanksgiving
It touches me to hear to
hear the Land of the Free
and the Home of the Brave
because I’m Proud to be an American
Sbmitted For Sami Al-Khaliti ‘s Contest
Simply, Absolutely, Utterly Art
Categories:
bangled, happinessme,
Form: Verse
A face presses up to a store window display
of an angel in ermine
with arms bangled and boots thigh high.
Mannikin thighs harder than the fake tree
in the corner festooned with popcorn ...
stale now in the airless window.
The eyes of the child glow looking in
as mannikin eyes look out at the
turtle-necked tourists stopping to smile
at the child watching a toy train wind
past the feet of the angel in ermine
and her glistening red boots.
The train is filled with jeweled brooches,
earrings, and a necklace of diamonds.
Growing tired now, the child walks
to a cardboard box at the corner of this store
where her mother sits on an old pillow
holding a flute to be played as its
red carrying case fills with coins.
Coins that will never buy diamonds.
Hauntingly beautiful Christmas carols her mother plays
while the child sits on the sidewalk
watching feet pass and coins drop.
Soon, they will walk across the street to a cafe
where she will drink hot chocolate
before they return to this box
to sleep in the silent night.
Categories:
bangled, childhoodchild, angel, angel, child,
Form: Narrative