Burning Books
David J Walker
There is burning on
The next pages
The flame rages in words
Of fame and glowing embers
Ancient runes forgotten phrases
Members of book clubs
Meet in brewpubs
Tuesday afternoons
Reading single letters out loud
Before they disappear in
Perfectly clear air
Made of flames
The scribe did nothing
To hide the hidden meanings
Before setting them afire
Categories:
brewpubs, allegory,
Form: Rhyme
Blended with fragrances
And the joyful carols,
The con games of children
Looking for gifts full of fun.
Kris Kringle’s cock-and-bull
Make them rosy and lull.
Adorned houses with odorous candles
Christmas tree ornamented with red ribbons and jingles
Marzipans fruitcakes and roasted chickens
Caramel cookies and plenteous chocolates,
The night illuminated
With the dance of the December souls
Gilding the lily with
Buoy up Wine and Champagne glasses.
Family gatherings and paisanos schmooze,
Couples moonlit winter-warmth savor
And the striplings night lammed booze,
Queued brewpubs and bopping discos –
The night illuminated
With the dance of the December souls
Gilding the lily with
Few ill-famed shmoes.
The Dance of the December Souls
Flageolet till New Year’s Eve,
The night at mid, lightened
By the skyrockets –
Gilding the lily with
Full-of-the-moon brightened.
Blended with resolutions and
Hugs and kisses,
Greetings followed
By myriad of wishes.
Clock ticked with few yesterday’s memories
Tears backed up by today’s beginning.
Categories:
brewpubs, happiness, socialdance, night, dance,
Form: Carpe Diem