Best Purling Poems

Written: November 24, 2023
          _____________________________________________

Seraphic sand is sapped on the seashore
As swirling waters swallowed the load roar.
The roiling river rapidly ground to an oar 
Shore seaweed—pure praise to restore.
 
A skylark beat the cords, its wings...

Continue reading...

Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote 
blue sphere, purling,

spinning helplessly 
through distant time and space;
slave to routine and rotation,
never daring to break free; 
to reach out.

Scorpius sprawls low 
across the Autumn void;
a celestial...

Continue reading...

The brook follows the path of least resistance
It does not confront obstacles 
It embraces them
Nature knows not war

The landscape is tranquil, peaceful
Nature likes it that way
Rolling shades of green sprinkle the velvet hills with
A myriad display of colorful flowers 
Flaunting the multi-hues of the rainbow

The...

Continue reading...

BELLS

I.

Bells has a tingling ring to it,
a jingledy-jangle silver tone.
The tympanic waltz, close knit —
angelic chorus of Christ’s throne.

And Winter parades its magic —
the pure white snow purling gold.
Morgans’ shiver and shake chromatic.
Enchantment’s carol — behold!

O Christmas day — the pearly gates
stretched wide open in...

Continue reading...

My serenity, I will share,
a special place I visit.
It lies deep within a canyon where,
the desert imparts no limits.

For ancient years, it has lived,
beyond mans fatal footprint.
I've had to keep it secretive,
so its beauty won't be spent.

A place of purling clear waters,
scampering over time worn...

Continue reading...

NOTE TO THE READER
Once Apun a Time

This yarn is a flossy fabric woven of several earlier warped works, lightly laced together, adorned with fur-ther braided tails of human frailty. The looms were loosed, purling frantically this febrile fable... 

Some pearls may be found wanting –...

Continue reading...

 Continued from Part 1 

The forgery of Multitudes between the Silhouettes
(and discarded cigarettes,
neath the haunted parapets)
mock my lonely echoed steps
         – mock my lonely echoed steps –
(struck like clicking castanets
      ...

Continue reading...

Toconao, Oase im Sand
Wunder in der Atacama
Wo das klare Wasser fließt
Dort am Rande der Düne
Verschlingt schon die Quebrada
Allmählich der heiße Sand
Noch wandere ich langsam
Dort im einsamen Traume
Wo ruhig in den Gärten
Noch leise Wasser plätschert
Im kleinen steinernen Kanal
Mein einziger Begleiter ein Hund



Toconao, oasis in the sand
Miracle...

Continue reading...

Winter's winking wearily in the sun
gracefully giving ground
knowing Spring will never run

Muted, molted, monochromatic colors turn
vibrant, vivacious, victoriously
welcoming the return

Soft, subtle scents in the air
lilacs lovingly linger
in the tresses of my hair

Pink petals purling to the ground
blossoms blindly blowing
whirling all around

Daisies dancing daintily in the...

Continue reading...

.


                          Purling
      As the lotus 'mongst the waft top 
     ...

Continue reading...

Ever these gifts from Eos of dawn,
Her mornings gently purling  with ray’s early  luster
To herald new sunrise, a  jasper flare--
Robed in ornate chiffon waltzing quietly
On marbled hills, on  awakened  floral glide:
How  fragrance explodes into creamy nectar
Luscious as her avian...

Continue reading...

I had spent recent years in mourning, since I had lost someone very dear;
As when pallid moon is hidden by clouds, and bright stars will not appear.

My job as a professor consumed me, and I was happy for its distractions,
Like a pastel rainbow that's created,...

Continue reading...

A bright morning sun reflected off the everlasting hills and over blushing flowers,
Then onto whispering trees heavy with fruit, over purling steams and dimpled lakes,
A poet, dipping his pen into the ink that writes of pure images in the urn of truth,
Writing besotted letters, of...

Continue reading...

A bright morning sun reflected off the everlasting hills and over blushing flowers,
Then onto whispering trees heavy with fruit, over purling steams and dimpled lakes,
A poet, dipping his pen into the ink that writes of pure images in the urn of truth,
Writing besotted letters, of...

Continue reading...

A former friend of mine
tricked me into becoming
something I am not

The volunteer President
of our condo association,
a position I clearly cannot afford
midst trifling disassociations.

We were starting our Autumn tradition
of arguing about next year's budget
which typically continues
until we recommend something utterly preposterous
to our membership
which they will certify
remains...

Continue reading...