thoughts like parachutes
open in clouds floating by
colourful strings r..a..i..n
cells dissolve in air
wide parachutes pause pink
red green umbrellas
core is parachute
opens in multi-colour
rainbow becomes K ** I** T ** E
~~~~~~ flyaway ~~~~~~
Drawdy Pointe
Flyaway frond hairs wear the breeze
where the green palm nods her head,
and the pelican post's lone occupant
is surveying the fisherman’s empty line.
Across the water in the yellow yard,
a gypsy on loan from Key West,
the alpaca grows wool, the donkey brays,
and the happy chickens nest.
Quiet and peaceful, grasses silently slip,
adrift on canals from the sea;
the star fruit falling across the fence
is golden and perfectly sweet.
I have heard said that island time
never checks the hands of a clock,
just simply wafts by from daylight to dark
as we sit in our chairs on the dock.
Copyright, January 22, 2022
I'm a fluttering flyaway colorful butterfly
I am a Butterfly
yellow brown red orange as a rainbow bending above the horizon
I am flying fluttering dancing in mid air
I am up and down sucking blossoms eating floral nectar
I can flow in mid air, I'm so colorful
I can colorful view flying so beautiful to your view
I am a Butterfly
7/12/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
Magnificent red and blue streaks followed her swift descent over the ridge
Into the bowels of the unsavory graffiti-laden under bridge,
Wild hair girl patriot is how we referred to her here in Elridge.
She is feral, footloose, untamed, and full of vinegar. Tamed? Not a smidge.
When did women begin tattooing their beautiful bodies with so many black inks?
I watch her multi-colored hair fly behind her as she bicycles into the sinks.
Her tresses are yarned, beaded, flyaway in a distorted pattern, with many kinks.
Brave tenacity and determination to look so unlike her ancestral links.
There goes that crazy out-of-control Jones girl, a man with an absolute type mind, says, his voice a sneer.
I smile as I watch her, then I blow her some kisses, and say I am so glad she is living here.
She is teaching us to be ourselves, and live our lives. Her independent spirit deserves a cheer!
I walk away satisfied that my apt reaction to his silly comment is abundantly clear.
Lilac scents surface and I'm surrounded
with a pleasant picture tap dancing
upon a weathered soaked oak porch
Bare shoulders showing carefree scars
burnt skin deep seduction lingering
along with a memory of summer love
Roundabout days fast and furious
feelings as the temperature rise
inside secretly hidden drift away eyes
Lilac scents surface in the breeze
and I inhale every hint of you
and my mind rolls back
Flyaway moments held strong
to soon departed gone wrong
Your eyes will pick her from a crowd of ladies,
Her hair,a flyaway,very thin and soft as silk,
Her gaze sharp,and eyelids as if lined with shards of glass,
Below,a dainty nose with dazzling Pandora jewels
That extends to her sea-nymph ears
Her beaming smile,makes the world a better place,
Teeth white white as lime under her pouting lips
Her wasp waisted body picks well with her thick thighs
Your eyes will pick her from a crowd of ladies
She'll make a three-year old experience early adolescence,
The time has quickly passed away,
I promised myself a poem a day.
It is now time to write the last,
Now I need to really think fast.
What to write, I do not know,
Where on earth did all the time go?
I remember my promise clear as day,
I swear it was only yesterday.
I've wrote about Monsters, kids and kin,
I've wrote about never ever giving in.
Glitches and Rosie's and we are blessed,
The one about PTSD I found was a test.
Friends are back from their flyaway holiday,
I can't believe they were three weeks away.
Told of bedtime stories and Eerie nights,
Wonder if my mate is still wired right?
Well I think that will do for a quick resume'
Anything else I will leave for another day.
We have to go shopping before it's too hot,
We should be home soon, we don't need a lot.
So I've managed to fulfill my promise to me,
A poem a day, sometimes two or even three,
That's not bad going for an old fogy like me,
Off out now, maybe I'll write, right after tea!
© Dave Timperley 31 August 2016
Took our friends to the airport this afternoon,
Don't like them going, but they'll be back soon.
We love having friends who we're comfy with,
Sometimes they are much closer than kith.
Gone to see family and friends far away,
We're happy that they'll be back one day.
Glad it is them that's going and not us,
For they're going to pay out in Toys-R- Us!
So we said not goodbye, but see you anon,
We will be waiting for the plane you are on.
Then it's back to normal whatever that is,
Until they are off again for a Christmas whizz.
So we said God speed and keep you both safe,
Until you're safely back from your holiday place.
© Dave Timperley 08 August 2016
No sonnet to hold the magic of feeling,
A trembling tenderness in my soul delights –
A shadowing sonnet to reflect the lights,
The beauty, the beauty, of ever believing.
No sadness to spoil the depth of compassion,
A freedom so simple, though love lives still –
A flyaway sonnet to soar with the thrill,
The release, the escape, of all love and all passion.
No days and no years could cut its throat,
A timeless emotion that cannot know never,
That can never quite give enough.
No cymbals for us with one splendid note –
A tambourine sonnet for you, forever
For the soft steady shake of this love.
Copyright (c) Silverla StMichael 1998 (previously published under a prior pen name Sherry May Curnock)
Six AM is
NOT a
Solace:
The ( waking ) hours
Seem
NO
Better.
Roll over and press then
Panic Switch
(In your
too
loose
pants and
Flyaway bangs
And nosebleeds)
Wishing
A death
Upon the sunRISE
"Because
I
Said".
"Good, Evil, Rage: Me"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
Strands of silver, tinsel fine,
Thin, flyaway,
Winged, widow’s peak
Widows’ weep
Bubba, Grandma, alone.
Up the dark tenement stairs
Cross tiny, tile squared floors
To the always open door…
Bubba, Grandma.
Aged, ageless, wiry, warm,
Open arms welcomed long tooth-grin
Gretel’s Grandma welcomes in.
Bubba, Ma.
Steel- spined, crow-eyed, soft skinned,
Gathered in, captured,
With the chicken bone.
The scent of ancient tomes,
Mothballed down comforters,
Brisket, kugel-noodle soup,
The feasts of Kings,
David and Solomon
Bubba, Grandma, Home?
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