in shades of silver
when heavens and land entwine -
admiring the view
17.01.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
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Dishwater creeks are iron rails in the cold light.
The sky is thick
with the muted warnings of exhausted banshees.
Harken little sparrows
for bells in toll booths peel in their empty boxes.
The farms are lost, the fields have drowned,
cattle wander, levitating just above
a ghostly ground.
Wade we all, eye deep in the swirl
of better days.
when pewter moons silvered
bright dawning's.
If we travel far now
there may be no homes left
for us to relive our lives within.
Better to nail the mind down into soft pillows,
for the day has no forgiveness in it.
Mercy a prepackaged gift long opened.
Like an eye through a keyhole
the moon's eclipse obfuscates
sun's white incandescence,
turns the solstice to morgue-gray.
As mist rises from a charcoal lake
laced with ice's torn edges
minions of leafless oak and alder
witness in slate silence
winter's pewter ghost,
floating phoenix-like
above July's embers
when water shimmered with indigo,
rippling tangelo butterflies in its wake.
Now sirens of graphite shores
lure like dark sentinels into platinum light
to unleash the fortunes
of this nether wasteland.
November's bright dawn
mirrors a slate colored lake
beneath silver clouds
manifesting hope's glimmer
on this polished pewter day
Written 11/8/13 for Francine Roberts' Tanka Me Fall or WinterContest
.
On heavy pewter clouds I rise
Slowly float to other side
Of Swift Creek's fast current that flies
The air feels as light as spring
But winter moves behind howling
Firm brazen and tempting to boot,
subtle and elegant.
Well defined shapely and haunting
void of color yet as colourful as they come.
Bound for parting red
beckoning with wanton,
A kiss a simple kiss perserved
forever in heaven.
Bound for bliss.
Patty Potter bought a pot of pewter.
Yes, Patty Potter bought a pewter pot.
Patty Potter paid a pretty penny
For the pretty pot of pewter Patty got.