Rust flaked signposts,
from dew-stain,
era enigmatic,
omen, symbol,
scratched by,
yellow fog weather,
floating visual,
or pigment’s,
crumpled inmost span,
waned crossing,
I peer with,
hazed whimsy,
on my prime flush,
streetscape ambit,
what is destination,
but infinity of kismet,
elliptic nudge from afar,
“BLINDLY” lolling in,
circular pursuit,
then founding paradigm,
raise the “BLINDS,”
wisps of unearthly whisper,
almost orange-red robin,
yet impactful brain stroke,
luminous and lucid,
a close kin carols,
your inlying map,
is weatherproof,
absorb urban soundings,
with gut sense hunch
While the Sun was winking at the Green planet...
Seven colors cavorting in May
Winds swayed, lulled and clasped clouds like hay
Colors above clouds tilted and frolic
As Winds soared, fly o'er North Atlantic.
Seven shades that waft under shimmy skies
Shading trees and lagoons like brumed pies
Colored blades enamoured by nature's wonders
Inlying blessed planet, emitting in numbers.
Clouds flair, tireless of its athletic heels
Swirling in air, running like spinning wheels
Reels and Winds giggled at Clouds' cycles
Clouds gasped and wept with flaming icicles...
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