Long Herbage Poems

Athenian Epitaphs

Mariner, do not ask whose tomb this may be,
but go with good fortune: I wish you a kinder sea.
—Michael R. Burch, after Plato

Does my soul abide in heaven, or hell?
Only the sea gulls
in their...

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BUSHFIRE
                                  ...

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Part 4

Now by the end of the day, it was easy to say,
    The Hippo was gracious and kind.
With no desire to offend, it seemed a genuine friend
    And...

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A Turnip and a Cabbage
    are walking down the street.
This may seem a might peculiar 
    as they hadn't any feet.
Before you judge and criticize, 
   ...

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"The forest is a sanctuary where you can grow to be you," ... by the Poet.

The passing of a torch, when Spring was announced, 
was noted in the melting quarter of winter memories, as a...

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Home,my sweet home,
Where blue tranquil rapids flow,
Its meanders run in symphonic rhythms ;
To the left and right aside,
It holds my village firm;
Yellow is ripen glow of lavish harvest;
Land filled by gold and breads;
That unblemished brook...

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INTO THE WILD

I dreamed ......

An arboreal wandering into the wild
Creeping in narrow-leaved green herbage
Afraid to be mashed by other wolverines got riled
Their safe abode is now in the siege

The rampage and stampede make a harsh...

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I found a chateau lawn once, teeming with charm
A  MAZE it was,  growing cluttered yet it had an air
Of much lushness TURNING the space into a hued mantle;
Where PATHS of herbage, bluebells, camellias...

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Sun's flames burn through hazy, midday heat
Raising fierce winds -- dusty, choking ...
Fiery orb descending toward horizon's lair
  ~ Ghostly white moon rises, painted on low-ceilinged sky

Bare, brown patches spread, invading once-proud green mantles
Parched...

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Bamboo Tree

26 February 2012


Evergreen tree-like green herbage
Abounding woody stems travelling upwards
In a flick, moments-of-memory refuse to cede
At the sound of rustling leaves, pay off a reverie

Pliant in face of neither storms nor monsoons
It just sways...

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Lost In Dark Silent

When I look back the silent darkness
I had left in the deep woods
a long ago
where I had planted few seeds
of my memories to grow
but I found those seeds grown
with thorns of exasperation...

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My heart lays within the burrow. 

In the stillness of this place there is beauty, its envelopes the terrain. 

Softness is embodied in the rich colors of both shade and hue. 

Lush emerald herbage, grass...

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Sweet the bounty imbuing the meadow
With ripened fruits, herbage, and oats,
And children raise their baskets under lush trees
To  pick  pluck nectar of mid-autumn’s  regale...
While older folks round up for  a grateful...

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Long time ago, in lonesome youth shine
In a wonder state of boykind
Making paper pontoons
Skying an oar, in a creek lagoon
On a yummy, afternoon
In swampy, draconian, water spittoon

The artsy-crafty, paper tub boat
I heedlessly, knacked, to float
Voraciously,...

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I can often (sometimes) almost
feel it.
It’s not a place, not anywhere,
not heaven sent or given.

Sometimes it’s a soft sticky fig,
on the back of the tongue
or a color that should be painted
but nobody has yet.

It’s like...

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