Another spring
Counting rings
No longer dark
Dog days wait, for their bark
Signaling life has been in bloom
And soon
A beautiful reality will arrive
You do not really die
Glorious sunshine
Photosynthesis dines
Fed well
From nature's magic spell
Can't you tell?
Arbor figure matures
Always sure
About wilderness’ door
No one ignores
Relaxed, whistling tunes
Branches dance and swoon
Turning everything green
Shade is an escape dream
Then things turn
Brown and burn
Chilling breeze sighs
Giving a ride
To the foliage who occupy
Twigs ready to say goodbye
Fall scheduled to begin
Giving the end
A win
Low temperatures chattering bite
Haunting the cool night
Crumbled leafs descend
Crinkling no bend
Completing their beauty rein
Realizing it's just a plants game
Meeting with the rake
Realizing the bag is ready to take
Them to the disposable bin
No need to call a next of kin
Since they will be shred
Rip and dead
Until spring
And another ring
Appears
Exclaiming the tree is here
Giving a reason
To celebrate each season
Letting the seeds
Do their deed
And grow more trees
deep in the depths of London, off the A35 trunk route
there lived a wayward entity with the nastiest intentions
A carnivore who ate wriggling squiggling prey
She lived on the borderline of insanity and madness
Her ancestors had lived dank, dark, dreary lives
Secrets promenaded in their family in starts and stops
Because they were wooly, wild, and winsome
Being werewolves also might have entered into it
She was a she-were, the most dangerous, devious werewolf
Most women can control urges, she prioritizes her primality
on Halloween eve she sits in the comfort of Algorith Alley
frightening the rats, who scurry and scatter in fear
There are a few seconds when the moon dies on Halloween
a few precious seconds when this she-were can strike
her ferocious fangs shred shrieking subjects with precision
Madness? Why? Because she leaves carnage after she dines?
A stare with the idea of coming love,
To build and design with simplicity;
By care, cheer, and choice as the one above-
To care for her taste's specificity.
Warmth of her heart, shines...
The regards of my mind's shrines
That love's worship dines.
A stare of imperfect realistic show,
That displays raw empathy within flaws...
Grows intent with fearless thrill to forego
Every scar shaping past, silence withdraws.
Money brings extent-
Depth issues warning torment,
Choice did not resent.
A stare with dedicating reflection,
Around heavy commitments offered game
To play such cum disappointing rejection,
When love no longer but feel learned cum shame.
Complexities cough,
Simplicity seems so rough...
To redeem love's tough.
A stare of loyalty not only beep,
But also calls for sweet invitation
My eyes can't reject but honour to keep...
Conflicting tests strengthening adaptation.
Lower, lower, dear
Your daring stare is so rear,
For my eyes to sneer.
the fire was just getting started when we phoned it in to the captain’s house
He came running with a badger, a monkey, a chipmunk and a mouse
Can they get it out? Asked the homeowners, anxious indeed about this
Better call in McDuck, said two volunteers – Willie and Wiss
McDuck brought the large fire engine, from Number Nine
He left his feed at the fancy pond restaurant where he dines.
But being the captain, he is used to leaving lots of good feed on a plate.
Weirdly enough, he brought his goody bag, and Dinah, his date.
As the ethereal guitar mesmerises
My soul responds
As if I dipped into a melodic bath
Of perfectly curated
Lovingly tempered
Heart massaging
Candle flickering
Water
A fragrant tune invades
My nostrils
Flaring as the warm
Moistened air tumbles by
The world merges into
Perfection
Harmony
Stirring
The resonance
Of childhood memory
Percolating through the mist
As sliding strings
Caress my ears
My mind drifting
Towards that past
Safer place
Yet this mesmerising medication
This tuneful tumult quelling
Perfect prescription
Is deeply welcome
Somewhere in my gut
My true being
Soothed as we surrender
To this soulful sabbath
May you never grow old
At the joyful table
Where your soul dines
Hear the whispers
Of the small pleasures
Taste the fermented flavours
Of the ordinary delights
Using all your available senses
When the music plays
To transport you
Run to catch the moment
Soak in the vapour
Embibe the elixir
Breathe it all in deeply
Holding in gratitude
Each heavenly moment
Where the hail crests the sunlight by the hill on which we laid
Though the bedding were not empty as the rocks did fight away
In the confounds of our memories too soon pass ways galore
Love then dines as faiths are born to the measure of one’s hearts true implore
Then the captives of the waves sang loudly as a choir
Till the sodden depths remained the same
still titles were yet held within the unquenched flame
Bore the night the sparkling sky for the darkened purply never rests
As the widow of a King bore all that she had torn
Combing hill after dale for the goodness is there born
See thine self for thyself in truth before wisdom is saddled upon the shelf
Shalden…
An old Mallard dines alone
A memory on the edge of the flock
A weaker yet still viable member
An inattentive sentry
Sifting grey mud
Chasing soggy bread crumbs
The sun warms his weary wings
As the river draws him away
A Great Blue Heron nods G’Day
In moonlit dunes where silence creeps,
My past still hisses in my sleep
The owl above with spectral stare
The scorpion’s sting, a desert’s dare
They watched, I waited, lips held tight
And struck with fury skinned in night
The mouse so small, so quick, took flight,
And fell beneath my fang's sharp bite
By noon the rat, its frantic dash,
A silent snap, a final flash
A squirrel in the night, it found my hood
In it's neck my venom, nails driven to wood
I, the sly one, a cobra dines alone,
Taking what’s mine, with skills honed
They vanish, twitching, into dust
My hunger’s law, in silence trust
Mid the darkness shallows
Pit across the deepen sights
Blackness circumference barrows
The devise of light
Brilliants though shines
Every bright for you see
The light ever always firms dines
Demises the darkness flees
Light always sparks
As every sparks turns to light
Light ever always shine out bright
Light darkness is over shun
3/18/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
Parasites
there is a tiny mite
that lives on our face
but does not bite
it is a species of arachnid
that’s so small it’s outta’ sight
it bores in to our pores
and only comes out at night
it dines on our sebaceous oil and ear wax
and on dead skin, for dessert, it does delight
they are with us from birth to death
so, no use putting up a fight
each time you look in your mirror, just remember
you are looking at their campsite
they have a very short life
they live no more than a fortnight
if you happen to see some specks
they might be those nasty Demodex!
A wanderer's heart, by Gemini vines embraced, A starlight mystery, in your eyes it shines, A dance unknown, in lunar realms we're graced, Beneath twin moons, where love divinely dines.
Your heart, the north star, guides my twilight dream, Where whispers soft in shadows gently hide, Between the dark and light, a passion's gleam, In this enchanted realm, our souls abide.
A new love dawns, a bright epiphany's art, Like dawn's first glow, our tale in time entwines, A cosmic sign, where fates forever start, In starlight etched, our love in lunar designs.
For in this dance, our destinies convene, Twin souls entwined, a love forever keen.
Never Give Up
Miracle Man
11/20/2024
Each person is given
an allotted time from birth,
We use this time, dubbed life,
trying to prove our worth.
Many will become famous
accomplishing great things,
While the disadvantaged
dreams of living like kings.
Many face daily laboring
in the days scorching heat,
Grubbing out an existence
without shoes on their feet.
While the affluent thinks daily
of a menu’s choice of meat,
The impoverished is questioning
whether or not they will eat.
Each person does the things
of which they’ve been made able,
While one dines like a king
the other, crumbs from his table.
But each is held responsible
for the things in their cup,
Many can no longer persevere
and just simply give up.
A foul stray-dog stink and a head smooth and pink,
A mouth full of razor sharp fangs
A gloss headed monster? The long-missing link?
He dines upon beast-hunter gangs
Its arms double jointed, its ears they are pointed
With hair sprouting downward from there
A long snout in place on his hair covered face
Means your blood he can smell in the air
He’ll sneak with such stealth which is bad for your health
For if you don’t spot him you’re dead
A few see him coming and make their escape
When the moon reflects off of his head
I’ve seen it in zombies and sometimes in ghouls
I think there’s been vampires as well
I once wrote a novel about this mad beast
My publisher said, “It won’t sell.”
He told me, “I’m sorry, I don’t like the story,
It’s silly, I can’t applaud this…”
But what he called ‘silly’ was my pride and joy…
‘The Werewolf With Male Pattern Baldness.’
an intrusion of roaches
dines nightly on rice
i see only by daylight
Condescending Mastermind
Your path is certain,
Always a narrow line.
Your words you fill with sweet designs;
Relinquish scattered emotions to the flame of the hearts,
Now eroded with time.
Why such a deliberate sorrow?
To a love so fine?
A Love that was meant to withstand all time.
Now though true souls are unveiled,
They are still left in confines.
Urgently longing a significant sign,
To erase these illusions and forever define,
The Passion between them that keeps them entwined.
Hold-fast on to purities,
On which deceit dines.
The option will truly
Send chills down your spine.
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