Idyllic illicit illusion…
Complicit daydream delusion…
Explicit panoply profusion…
Other worldly garlanded gems..
Purring poetic…balletic..stirring kinetic aesthetic..
Absurdly drop atop delicious stems..
Heavenly blue hue...serenity’s serendipitous shade..
Or purple patch so plush…fairies blamelessly blush..
Bucolic blossom hush... mother nature's made..
Garnishing..varnishing.. intricate forest floor laid..
Magical mist…delicate..sumptuously sprayed...
Trysts persist…unctuously dappled glade..
How can you resist..not be swayed?
Flagrantly decadently displayed.
Fragrantly delectably conveyed...
Casts seasonal smorgasbord spells..
Marvel at the mythical majesty..
Spring’s cocooned woven tapestry..
Festooned filigree of bluebell dells
Of all the songs
You seem to be
The tuneless one,
Less subtlety.
God's orchestra
Has dealt a hand—
More toneless rasp
Than golden strand.
I wonder if
You long to be
A star
In morning's reverie.
Do tears well up?
Perhaps that's why
You paddle more
Than flit and fly.
And yet…
I see you
Standing proud—
Such confidence
In every crowd.
You waddle round,
For pictures pose—
Such character
Without a nose.
You dress with style,
All brown and green.
There's pride in how
You peck and preen.
You're grounded,
Yet you float and glide.
No treetop nest—
You strut with pride.
So maybe I
Prejudged your tone—
Less violin,
More slide trombone.
In that, the panoply
Of life
Requires such confidence
Amid the strife.
To show us humans
Not to compare—
Just be yourselves,
Be fair and square.
And when life gives you
Orange sauce,
Puff out your chest…
Just stay on course.
bak'ry
sweet panoply
pick a number and wait
anticipation, sal'vation
heaven
panoply of limbs
matched to lifeless bodies grim
~ where Hamas has been
And who would find fault
with the perfect way
she clearly hid herself
in plain panavision view...
Not a hair out of place.
The small shield held up
at just the right angle,
to give her elbow room-
just enough freedom
in a safe space bubble
of her own making...
Her mental panoply
fine tunes private placement.
Her eyes pan the room...
Peripheral view,
not a rear view mirror,
points to an exit.
Touched, she moves forward,
nudged towards creation.
Art beckons come hither,
immerse your mind in thought...
What will she discover?
Slow, curious search
sees art's pointed viewpoint
all too familiar.
She looks in that mirror,
worried about makeup
on a stoic mask...
She knows art is life's pane.
To live life is an art.
Aqua Marine.
Posted: 02/12/2024.
(Anamorphic Art: a distorted view of an image.)
Hidden track.
Long legged visitor
Surveys the scene upsidedown
Disappears at dawn.
Aqua Marine:Haiku. 02/12/2024.
(Rain spiders are shy, harmless creatures.)
.
You once were connected
You had your place
As vibrant green
The sun did face
Now tumble down
The wind she shakes
As click you land
Connection breaks
So is it true
That life revolves?
The thing we were
Rotates, dissolves
We are transformed
A panoply
Of golden hints
Of what's to be
For in the cycle
Green to rust..
Faith in the natural
Ways we must
Be strong in love.
That nothing's lost
Deception
Is the only cost
Preserve belief
Beyond this schism
Faith in the beauty
Of nature's rhythm
For if my heart
Were such as this
With taste and tears
On every kiss
It could explain
Each reason why
The love lorne layers
Do testify
To pungent faith
Flavoursome hope
Formed in the dark
With potent scope
To underpin
The panoply
Of every tasty
Recipe
Poetry’s spoken armor
repels the pointed spear
warding off tomorrow’s scars
enemies in fear
Each word thus protected
as phrases form anew
to vanquish what the darkness brings
— new battlegrounds in view
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
Inherently people are prone to pry
Wherever there is more than meets the eye.
Black and white, by patent definition,
Dazzle in latent opposition.
Byproduct of a shady interplay -
Panoply of 50 hues of grey.
The contrast between black and white
Is not as trite as day and night.
In former days they harmonised
On the big screen before our eyes.
Beware of black, beware of white -
Clandestine colours out of sight.
A neglected letter is the 'z'
not as popular as a 'p'
nor as romantic as the 'r's'
In the panoply of letters, 'z' gets zero stars
Ah, but when it comes to animals
Why, 'Z' excels!
Next to 'Z' even Piggy smells
~ Give old 'Z' as in 'Zoo' five cowbells
Amber, yellow, dappled rogue
Maples wearing orangish hues.
Mother Natutes changing pallet
Symphony of our living planet.
Persimmon trees are red-infused
A panoply of majestic views.
The summer season fades, Alas.
Harvest moon leaves shadow dance
Then, cold winter will begin
Three whole months of bitter winds.
Sculptured hills of drifting snow
Jack Frost sings blizzard tones.
As the north absorbs warm sun
Winters past iced rivers run.
Mother Nature in full bloom
Lavender, green, azure blue.
My friends tell me not to stare,
But what I might miss is over there!
I can only see one thing at a time,
Sometimes its movement, sometimes a dime.
The most exciting things I see,
Are in natures panoply.
Leaves and sunlight,
Trees and dew.
Final stares are kept for people,
As they talk, walk, and stand.
Wearing clothes and head gear.
All from different lands.
So don't tell me not to stare!
I might miss what's over there!
Pour passion through your keys
Play classic chords with ease
Pianoforte loud
Pianissimo soft
Panoply of grand scores
Partial to Debussy
Perfect performance, clap!
9/14/2023
There's this little fragile
Betwixt the escort.
Trying to understand
Their psyche,
Their interest.
Are they really the armours
Or the aviary?
And will the dust devil arrive,
Rising from our own silhouette,
Compressing the cage of ribs
With the bludgeon?
Illusion of something erroneous,
Or may be some nave.
Perfect guard,
Guarding the heart,
The cascade of truth
For the so called panoply,
Squeezing the heart out.
Every piece of the jigsaw heart,
Turning out into butterflies
Dancing the dance of freedom.
Breath breath breath,
Screamed the chambers,
Shouts the guard.
Rushing the red ink
To the fragile little heart,
Pumps & paint the canvas,
Red with pure air.
They said it
to be the cage of protection,
And still the heart suffocated
Bearing all the badger in love.
So the kernel continued singing
The song of strom..
(12th April, 2023)
Neuropathy in my hands.
A panoply is the rest.
A screw loose in my head.
With itis through my back.
It's what old sawbones said.
But he saved the best for last.
Seems I have two more days
Please pass the ham and mayonnaise
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