Best Sprawls Poems

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...

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Spawn of the arcane, glutted, she sprawls upon the sands 
of mythos. As victims, star-crossed lovers, outcasts,
we have all seen the traces of these nether lands.
Sphinx-like, besotted, she lays among the bodies dashed.

A pixie smith has cast her silver chains, retained her
inside this mystic plane,...

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My Childhood Home


My lovely childhood home, I miss it so...
built Eighteen Eighty-Six, so long ago.

Three floors, all rooms with mantled fireplaces; 
carved woodwork, archways, spindled winding stair;
cathedral ceilings, sparkling chandelier
in dining room enjoyed on holidays.
Third floor not used but built with parkay floors
and doors that...

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Old Poem: Toes Of Rain ...4/6/2014

August spills rains
with tapped grains, like
pearl veins on roofs

Drenched in soft hue,
toes play new songs
of blue night’s croons

~than-bauk form~ 

................

Makeover: Flavor Of Rain  4/5/2015


Just now, the saline flavor of rain
crawls on my cheeks , drips on  hands
then sprawls...

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Chaste eyes trace my limbs, in the deep of woods
swerving like a breeze moist on fields of grass,
His Latin fire, on edge of twilight moods.

Shape of curves fondled like tender morass,
the call of moaning sprawls into full grind
swerving like a breeze moist on fields of...

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I fade into shadows of loneliness,
And disappear where the darkness now falls.
Silence I seek, not from reclusiveness,
Rather a guise when the emptiness  calls.
How long the prisoner of sanity?
Humbled by the still coldness of the play.
The twists and turns of its insanity.
When the dark of...

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Little sweet Lucy..four years..so small. 
Her pink teddy bear.. and her Barbie doll. 
Pushed strollers of fun. ..in traipse of malls. 
Then a Topsy turvy evil.. stifles her a thrall. 

She cries, " Where are my dolls? " 

Crawls a cruel connive...arrives a sudden sinister....

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A small dark-haired boy

absorbed in the words he scrawls

at an old wood desk

has thoughts brighter than grim walls

beyond which his future sprawls


Nov. 23, 2017 for Eve Roper's Photostory Contest...

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[If you’re a glutton for punishment, you
Can find ‘Mad Molly Shaw’ using the poems
Tag at top of screen]
              ****

Mad Molly Shaw wasn’t mad anymore
But sometimes a name kinda lingers
She entered the bar...

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Sunlight seeps
through the blinds,
oozes into the room.
The ceiling fan sweats
from its labor.
The clock creeps
at half speed,
pendulum dragging
through syrupy air.

On the stoop,
the old cat sprawls,
soothing her arthritic joints.

7/13/2017...

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The Testaments

Behold, the essence of aubergine and a trail of sparkles yields the moment to radiant reds, like a breasted robin of autumns abandon legions in crumpled layers, impaled to moisten saffron petals and chartreuse fronds,

Strewn against a capricious path that points to a dusty...

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November is late autumn's prize,
arriving with its last goodbyes,
to usher in cool, crisper days-
perhaps with flakes, or icy glaze-
as trees will shed their golden shawls
to soon don fluffy, snow-white falls.

With time to stay indoors, surmise-
a cozy fire, a book- while eyes
enjoy the autumn's vibrant blaze-
redone...

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"When I stare out into the sea, watching its changing moods, I see the reflection of life there and think of life's tumult and tussle on one side and its ease and peace on the other."    _ By Poet


When the world begins...

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Early morning vapors emulate a lady's veil,
diaphanous, a softly shifting secrecy; 
inconstant as the tide and deathly pale, 
feathering the lake in fragile mystery.

Minstrels scarce can sing with proper import 
of the dawning of the day in violet haze;
e'er we hear the skylark, nature's joyous...

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Cobwebs sag, gloomy clouds
like a furrowed brow
loom over the house-
 a kangaroo lies dying on
our country road .
A car's apologetic screech-
 a deathly thud-
 the twisted scrambling
of a broken creature,
and I, watching dumbstuck,
as it sprawls, drawing at
underbrush  with frantic forepaws -
reluctant  to let...

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