"It is quite possible to leave your home for a walk in the early morning air and return a different person - beguiled, enchanted."
~ Mary Ellen Chase
We enjoy the whistling wind as we walk,
The cool morning breeze calms and charms us,
A peacock is perched on a peepal tree,
Its fine feathers flowing fascinatingly,
Its sound of squawking seems sophisticated,
Like mystical music to its magnificent mate;
The butterscotch-orange ball blooms in the blue,
A snake slithers silently in the sewer nearby,
Songbirds tweet tantalizingly in the tall trees,
Vehicles plying on the highway are a vision to view,
Blushing bougainvilleas have blossomed in bunches,
Numerous neem trees line the narrow footpath,
A squirrel squeezes through a small, square hole,
And we uncover God's wonders as He unveils a new day.
suiters were drawn to her
she was reflective
what was she contemplating?
She seemed introspective and preoccupied
Women who are pensive are often fascinatingly contradictory
men waited for their turn
fresh and aromatic were her newest flowers
miniature daisy stamens within daisies
in ombre' too, fascinatingly innocent
no wonder you are the favorite flower of girl scouts
and Juliette Low
Jingle jangle went her wrists,
jangle jingle rang the rings that swung from bell-roped ears.
Unless she shook like a tambourine, she could hardly be seen.
When in motion Bodhrán drums and pursed wind-blown pipes
marched upright, legs as stiff as Irish dancers.
Maybe fairies danced in her eyes, or maybe drunken dodgem cars?
Something was turning and bumping,
something was walking and talking, jangling, and jingling
upon a nervy trampoline of being.
Though fascinatingly thrumming with the sonics
of a madcap Calle band she failed to transmit, nor fit,
as if she had shaken free of the crowd to be this
jiggling skeleton key seeking any keyhole of attention.
I saw the sun for the first time today
Gleaming in all its glory
With the singing birds and buzzing bees
At me; just for me.
The bees ignored me
I asked one why
She said I was young still
And that my time is sadly days away
How long is a day?
I asked my stem
She said to me, fascinatingly so
A day is how long it takes for the sun to stop gleaming for you
The sun did stop gleaming, became dimmer and dimmer
The beautiful darkness lasted just as long as the day
The stem said, “this is night, when owls hoot and crickets sing”
The Sun hides to let the stars shine
As the Sun arose once more,
My petals unfolded just a little
Each day I became more beautiful
Until at last, I became edible
When there is lane to walk, I need you to hold hands
If there is a day to live, I need your endless smiles
When glimpse of sight is you, a blink of darkness is unbearable
Thin and sleek, as you wink, the ecstasy is so adorable
This life is fascinatingly wide and deep, magic wand is you indeed
As all just passes through, our soul surge is the utmost beatitude
Its not day and night, its of you and me this world is made
Simple and straight you replenish my world full of gold
With never-ending madness.. I am always within you ! ! !
The cup
The mauve coloured love
Filled with tea or coffee
Impish and flirty
Richly ripply
Indulgence in anarchy
Fascinatingly
A festival of crimson glee
Agelessly
A cup of happy time
Smile seated on sweet lime
Tempting me to crime
Of misappropriation for tasting rhyme
Between hungry life and beauty
Between desert and lemon tree
Whether you agree or disagree
Towards an aesthetic view
The filigree I do
With Byzantine hue
On its obviously warm surface
Sometimes shy sometimes shameless
Sometimes suave sometimes reckless
Making mystic lattices
With pink brushes
In bliss time passes
The cup blushes
Sometimes a spring gushes
The thrushes lost in their music
The clock ticks on
Shadows grow taller
Dews gather in the dropper
As dusk walks in
On your evening chin
Time hushes
As the twilight blushes
On the golden rim
As I fill it to the brim
Night and day are gone astray
In pursuit of the chimera
Of my cup mania
The night descends from the stars
Among the firefly flowers
The mania ascends
And the two meet
What a feast
DURING MY WORLDLY TRAVELS, I MET ARTHUR ITIS.
TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH HE WASN'T THE BRIGHTEST.
HIS GOAL IN LIFE IS DISTRIBUTING PAIN.
HE LOVES TO ACT UP DURING WINTER AND RAIN,
I WAS ONCE AT A PARTY, HOSTED BY MR. GRIM REAPER.
I WAS BOUNCING AROUND WHEN I SPOTTED A KEEPER.
FASCINATINGLY ATTRACTIVE, WITH A SCIENTIFIC TYPE NAME.
SHE SIMPLY PREFERRED, BEING CALLED MARY JANE.
HER PURPOSE IN LIFE IS TO DRIVE AWAY PAIN,
FROM THOSE PLAGUED WITH ARTHRITIS EVEN MENTALLY INSANE.
HER WORK IS AMAZING, ESPECIALLY HER JELLS.
QUITE THE RELIEF FOR THOSE LIVING IN HELL.
SHE'S THE LIFE OF THE PARTY, WITH A BAD REPUTATION.
IN THE MEDICAL WORLD, SHE'S KNOW ACROSS NATIONS.
SO HERE WE STAND BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG.
AND ALL WE WANT IS ARTHRITIS BE GONE.
FASCINATINGLY ATTRACTIVE
ALLURING TO THE EYE.
MESMERIZED BY THE THOUGHT
THAT I COULD REALLY FLY.
FEELS AS IF IMAGINATION
AWOKE AND CAME TO LIFE.
SOARING HIGH ABOVE THE EARTH
MY BODY TOOK TO FLIGHT.
I UNDERSTAND IT'S NOT A DREAM
REALITY DON'T LIE.
IMMORTALS ALL AROUND ME
WE WERE SEEING EYE TO EYE.
ANCIENT WISDOM TOLD ME
TEACHING ME A LESSON.
HOW TO WALK THROUGH MORTAL LIFE
WITHOUT THE NEED FOR GUESSING.
LIFE IS TRULY WONDERFUL
BUT DO NOT BE SURPRISED.
ENTERTAINING MORTAL LIFE
THE MUSIC SEEMS REPRISED.
THE VIEW FROM IMMORTALITY
LIFE IS JUST A GAME.
IT ISN'T JUST THE MUSIC
THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME
SPRING 2015
The sun had vanished, it was black as black,
The air was crisper than ice.
And the wire on the fence whispered a steady humming tune
To hundreds of kangaroo mice.
We’d broken down, in the middle of Australia,
We were alone, my partner and I.
At first it was serene, just sharing a wine,
Under billions of stars in the sky.
By morning it occurred, we desperately needed help,
So we trudged about ten k to a track.
We were spotted by an aboriginal tracker in denims,
Riding with pride, on his horse back.
He gave us some water, then left for a car,
Later towing us to his quaint cottage shed.
He looked over the engine, said we could stay,
Saying if he hadn’t found us we’d surely be dead.
The starter motor had broken, bus was in two days,
So he lay a bed on the cold kitchen floor.
And said to watch any of his hundreds of horror movies,
This guy loved his blood, guts and gore.
This guy lived alone, he knew how to survive,
In this desert, he was fascinatingly unique.
He fixed our car, we gratefully shook hands goodbye,
But I can’t ever watch the movie Wolf Creek.
Passion
Keen
feeling
powerful
potent fervor
delighting the soul immensely, with zeal.
Fascinatingly embracing the heart,
dreamy delight
exciting
wishes,
love.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 16, 2010
Poetic form: Double Tetractys
Longing astray from the corners of my thoughts
I try to accept what is
Distance, separation and apart willingly so
I fight to accept what is
Striving towards the epitome of comfort
I try to reject what is
Dependency, rejection and ungratified unwillingly true
I mourn to accept what is
Parting from solace I watch you
I try to catch what is
Away, distant, and tangential believably painful
I attempt to fathom what is
Humbling to partake I run to you
I try to take part in what is
Beautiful, spectacular, and fascinatingly a part
I dare to challenge what is