How many flowers is Whimsy wearing today?
This was said in a cheerful way, merry and gay.
I have no idea, but she looks pretty of course.
This was agreed upon by the sheep and the horse.
Whimsy was the pet of the barnyard, friend to all.
They loved her happy disposition, she lived in one stall.
The livestock kept her safe, the cow fed her fresh milk.
Today she was garbed in a plethora of flowers, most of them silk.
we were confident in the corn maze
until we reached the tall black ghoul
garbed in wrinkly clothes
with a face that could frighten a devil
we sisters were the brave ones
our brothers hid behind us
terrified of whatever was about to happen
the ghoul held something in his left hand
was that a skinny buzz saw?
Two of the boys took off screaming
the other sister and I held hands
as we approached the monster
ready to give him severe words
for scaring our big brothers.
“I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.”
~Alice Hoffman
The man I love is far away,
does he exist? I cannot say;
perhaps a hope, perhaps a fantasy~
perhaps a fevered dream’s cliche.
If a dream I will stay most happily
beyond the veil in chastity,
the nightmare is the world alluded,
where vaunted knights are garbed in travesty .
The doctors say I am deluded,
that thought processes are occluded
by parabolic stimulations,
and reality has been excluded.
Am I insane to prefer creations
when life is full of corrupt castrations?
The man I love is far away,
can he not see my heart’s pulsations?
So keen to get a pound of human flesh, Shylock,*
Was jubilating, wearing his long beard and frock,
But young Portia, garbed in lawyer`s dress, with mind bright,
In court, solved the case against Shylock, outright.
*One of the principal characters in "The Merchant of Venice" by William Shakespeare
Ghosts
Garbed in ghostly attires
Glistening like a star
Grimacing like an ape
Gurgling like a black owl
Gathered on public square
Gesturing like actors
Giving a fearful show.
The world is filled with wondrous sights
majestic falls, Aurora’s lights.
Some wondrous structures men have made
have passed the test and made the grade.
The natural world with wonders filled
in every age has men’s hearts thrilled.
From the skillful design of the eye
to the beauty of a clear night sky.
In every cranny of God’s earth
surprise awaits and wonders flirt.
Which of these wonders of the eyes
will win the grandest of the prize?
Wonder of wonders ponder with me,
God garbed in flesh how can it be?
Eternal God confined to time,
Ruler of heaven, trapped in earth’s clime.
Infinite power in a helpless babe,
born of a virgin, a daughter of Abe.
Wonder of wonders ponder with me
God in flesh dying, on Calvary’s tree.
Said the Heifer to the Ox: “O‘ sorry Ox,
How terrible to work your heavy yoke,
All day to wheel around that grinding spoke!”
She lay lazy in the shade of nearby rocks.
But Ox plowed onwards. Hearing Heifer’s knocks,
And paying no heed to her pitiful smoke,
He laboured, knowing well the dreadful joke
Which soon was to repay her mindless mocks.
And just then came a large procession near,
Garbed in diadems and resplendent frills;
“O‘ Heifer, if only you’d known your lot,
You’d have held your tongue and lived life in fear!“
The priests, dragging Heifer to the high hills,
Offered her to gods whose favors they sought.
(Inspired by Aesop's "The Heifer and the Ox".)
A Sunday Morning
A small group of women
slowly approach a
tomb hewed from a
local hill.
A bright rising sun
begins to peek over
the horizon as the first
day of the new week dawns.
The Roman soldiers lay
all about the entrance
in different poses
as if asleep.
The mighty stone that
blocked the small
entrance to the hole of
death is rolled away.
The women approach and
look inside. The rock bed
where He lay is empty
save for the blood-stained shroud.
At the head and foot
sit two men garbed
in white as if guarding
the shroud.
He is not here. The
women gasp as one
to see the empty rock bed
and they wonder what next.
They massed on the square,
The army of the masses.
Fists clenched,
Brandishing few swords
And few guns.
Not garbed in combat gears
Chanting war chants.
They advanced upon
The fighting force
Of the deep states
Garbed in full combat gears,
Fist fight ensued.
The fist fight
Turned into a sword fight,
The sword fight
turned into a gun fight.
The fighting force
Of the deep states
Vanquished
The army of the masses,
Melancholy enveloped the land.
Justice and equity
Became prisoners of war,
Accountability became victim of war.
Deprivation
Became companion of the people.
The deep states
Without conscience
Clicked wine glasses
And rode
In siren fitted automobiles.
The roads littered with potholes,
The streets littered with dirts
And emanciated beggars.
faint essence exudes
gentle generosity
I’m swept by your scent
carnival raiment
gorgeously garbed in motley
I’m lost in your charms
following each leaf
landing lightly down below
I’m falling for you
I see the luminosity of morning's twilight
emerging on the periphery of my panoramic view
where it gradually evolves
garbed in gray and red clouds
strewn across the horizon as embroidery
stitched into the sky
an evocative touching colored thread of serenity
uplifting a stunning new garment
as the day begins a new birth
of majestic majesty and marvel
leaving me in a solemn moment of grandeur
and breathless awe
draped in profound spiritual perfection
as it uncouples from the last drop of saturated darkness
that was the night
The simplicity of this beautiful scene
beckons the miracle of life's constant motion
of the painted kaleidoscopes that lay before me
drenched in the morning's colorful harmonious light
that washes over me like a sensual symphony
of visual stimulation and ecstasy
from its splendor and beauty
bringing a tender sense of peace
to an old soul
who walks the flowering gardens of life
wiping away a tear
for the gift of another morning's light
causing my heart to sing
I dreamt I was in a church,
I was walking up to the candlelit altar.
There were clergy garbed in vestments,
whether they were Catholic or Episcopal,
I don't recall.
A mourning Mass was about to begin.
I approached an open small mahogany coffin,
an infant lost to abortion was lying in it,
instead of the bassinet it deserved to be
born into.
I placed my hand tenderly on the
lacy-robed babe.
Suddenly, the baby stirred and came to life,
gently cooing as many babies do.
The Life Dream,
sweet omnipresent Christ,
our prayers for unborn and born children.
Your infants of the ages,
of the earth's mother's receiving bosoms.
Our sorrows become our joys,
we saved through Your grace-
more of Your precious ones today. ~
Good-gesture greenthumb gatherers gleaned grain,
gargantuan granary,
grower's great goodwill greeting,
gazillion grade-schoolers, grownups,
gingham-garbed grandmother's,
grievous growling guts gone,
gain gastronomical goodies gardens,
grapes, granola, gourds, gosh!
generosity galore, golly, gobsmacked!
golden godsend
I shudder at the thought of each day giving way to night
for I know they will arrive garbed in thin veils of white
Through windows ghosts fly, though they're closed tight
Moaning my name until I think I might die from fright
I have done nothing to them, so why can't I escape
when I feel their foul breath on the flesh of my nape?
They ride on the wind, exposing their ghoulish shape
I'll stare at those scowling faces with my mouth agape
I've screamed and I've hit but they laugh at my fear
With evil eyes they taunt me as they glower and leer
The wind's begun to howl, and still, they hover near
I tremble in bed when their intent becomes quite clear
I hear them whispering vile words in a concocted spell
But the words they're chanting, I cannot hear very well
These ghosts haunt me each night from where they dwell,
Out of the darkness they swarm from the fires of Hell
Tonight, I'll be brave when they come from the fiery deep
I will stand before them, my tears I will dare not weep
and chase the wraiths from my home, each ghostly creep
I hope they will fade away so that I might peacefully sleep
Beyond boundaries, beyond humdrum of human race,
Beyond provinces mundane, among mysteries of space,
There is a realm of thriving wonderment, an idyllic place,
A place of peace and goodwill, hosting heavenly grace,
Where pavements glittering gold beautify every street
Surrounding ornate, walled, mega-mansions of elite,
Where people garbed in fabled attire gather and greet
Grooving to exotic melodies, extolling tempo upbeat,
Echoing sounds of mirth celebrating Shangri-La aglow
Reveling on prairies and streams, glinting angelic glow,
On pristine banks of paradise where rivers of elixir flow
Blossoming beauty of Eden, gardens utopian bestow.
There we meet, relishing dreams, musing in our fairy-tale,
Beyond drudgery, beyond worries, beyond mortal pain,
Lauding courtesies of nirvana fantasies mythical unveil
Elated in enchantment of exhilarating, paradisal domain,
Ecstatic of your fervid stance, inviting fervor of romance,
Caressing embrace of love holding me close to your heart
Proffering gestures esoteric in seductive tease of glance
Synchronizing beats-melodic, passions euphoric impart.
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