O these coolnesses!
Blown off a water.
Re-encountered, regaled again
Each face in summer.
With noon's energy
Nightfall's toned down is
Shake a bluff, maidenhair bank
Hurtled off; sat. bliss!
The last faint glimmers of yesterday fade
The flooding eve carries dark the remains
And pour upon the page of the great annal-book,
Open layed
The day's discoveries
Losses and victories
And the stark realities man tries evade
To only be to be faced some further day—
Scribed on some further page
Like memories regaled in our old age
That prick truth strange
Friends and enemies interchange
Love spreads wide its wings
Comforting
As we look on fragile things
Dreams and hearts shattered along the way
That seem now where the bitter walks of destiny
Trailing to an end befitting a life story
None may know, but me.
a shipwrecked treasure
clipper ship on the sea floor
a pirates envy
never recovered
regaled in sea shanties
considered a myth
sublime
rendering
a
fascinating
obscure
ouevre
as
hindsight
wanders
in
the
majestic
tender
& poignant
exquisite
creative
terrain
regaled
&brimming
with
delicate
love
sounds
"You can’t always get what you want,"
said Angie, in that style she loves to flaunt.
It isn’t what I want, you silly shrew:
the tumblin dice have told me what to do.
My fate’s decided, like I was Iraq:
That photo that I gave you? Paint it black.
I regaled you with the ruby, Tuesday night –
but that’s all over. This Olympian height
(the roof bar of The Rolling Stones Hotel)
is where I’ll jump from (tell them that I fell,
if that’s what you prefer). I will succumb
to gravity – you can’t say “Under my thumb,”
like in the past. You’ll think of something lame
(you Honky Tonk Women are all the same!)
Wild Horses won’t prevent me learning to fly.
And I’ll be counting down, as tiers go by.
I'll not journey to the moon and leave rubbish there.
Thinking of all the junk left behind is hard to bear.
~ thoughts of the poet
No trace of trespassing on the moon should be kept.
I scorn the lack of mankind's judgment for being inept.
Footprints should have been swept before flying home.
Into realms of outer space mankind chooses to roam,
leaving junk strewn on moon... pieces of a robot,
a golf ball, a flag planted by the hands of an astronaut.
The moon is not a dumping ground for what's left behind.
It ruins the concept of a radiant moon that's been maligned
when her glorious beauty should be regaled and enshrined.
There should be a sign posted by The Guardians of the Galaxy.
"Luna is not a refuse heap for man's rubble and debris.
If you must visit, show her deserved respect and use integrity.
Take your rubbish with you as you leave this property."
The Guardians ~ with irrefutable authority.
If deeply calls a bard for epic muse,
like newborn lambs that crave their mother's milk;
if feet that lightly trip along with shoes
of Mercury whose message speeds, like silk,
with lightning's sudden flash and peals of thunder;
if fate told jokes, regaled with humor's laugh,
then life, Greek tragedy, with comic blunder,
mocks man's pride, hubris, ego, using his gaffes
(with bathos). But high drama's theatric peak's
for bards and Elizabethan playwrights
who, like seers, see with vision, craft unique,
wond'rous, and grandiose plots of lofty heights!
But to give up this dream that seems sublime,
I'd wish for, still, love, children, peace, and time.
I want not someone else’s words
Though beautiful they are to me
Inspired, yes. I want to feel
But let my words flow sure and free
My fickle muse awaits his call
Yet bellows simply do not wake
And patience is now wearing thin
This rest needs no more time to take
Is confidence the culprit here
Has insecurity prevailed
I’m wishing, hoping fervently
My pen to swiftly be regaled
"Rainy delight "
Tejeswar Patnaik
Tormented by the grueling summer's might,
My patience, unfathomable, held tight.
A long wait finally saw its end,
As the season arrived making the raindrops descend.
With gleeful eyes, I watched the roaring sound,
As clusters of clouds burst forth, unbound.
Nature tested our patience, unfathomable and true,
Yet obliged every species, with planet earth anew.
Heaving a sigh of relief, we beheld the sight,
Crystal drops on leaves, a wondrous delight.
I wished to catch the falling drops, gripped with fantasy,
And gleamed to see the spectacle of a rainbow's symmetry.
Sunrays wrapped in clouds, cheering the rain god's might,
A round of applause, from all, in pure delight.
I was enthralled by Rain's rhapsody ,
It's beauty regaled everybody .
spring faerie regaled the meadow with new kinds of beauty
animal form had never looked this terrific if you asked me
but I am a bumblebee, what would I know?
When I approach humans they cover up.
Is that what humans look like without clothes? I asked my friend snake.
Snake laughed. Are you kidding? He said. They put boots on when they see me - work boots with spikes.
Besides, she is not a human.
She is a FAERIE.
We both stared at the lovely spring faerie.
Wondering if humans looked anything like that
without their clothes.
Bull frog invited snail to spend the night.
It would be a delight! It would be a delight!
Let me know what to bring; said the snail named Right.
He loved his friend, with his heart and all of his might.
It was their tradition on Christmas Eve to chat a bit.
Bull frog regaled Right with all of his wonderful whit.
They would share a spot of tea favored with an orange peach pit.
Then they would read a book in an easy chair where both would sit.
Sometimes snail slid down and ended up on bull frog’s head.
That is when bull frog would suggest they both go to bed.
They had no family left, but thank goodness they had each other.
They were so close, they both considered the other a brother.
As a non-golfing husband I revel at tales
Of sunshine filled days chasing small balls,
Some in the rough others in sand,
All these brave girls fighting nature's pitfalls.
I hear of the times the flock of wild ducks
Hindered a drive that was perfectly hit,
And what of those trees that magically moved
With a subsequent shout 'I just want to quit'.
But then I'm regaled with feats of great skill
Such as the time a Birdie was made,
Out comes the flask, big glugs all around,
Magical moments that no-one would trade.
They say Golf's a passion a lifelong pursuit,
One day may be heaven the other pure hell,
Neither cool mornings nor that full midday heat,
Apparently stops that will to excel.
Yet there's one thing I notice each week,
Yes the real pleasure from playing the game
And what's not to like from those magical views
But without one's good friends the day's not the same.
So to all poor Golf widowers awoken by shrilling alarms,
Then never quite knowing what time we'll see our fair brides,
There's a much higher calling we can but embrace,
'Happy wife happy life' the true gift this pastime provides.
On Thanksgivings Day we sent our son to the neighbors with squash and such.
A widow on a fixed income, she was appreciative. Said “than you so much.”
This is for later, our son told her. We want you to join us for our Thanksgiving meal.
She was super thrilled and came right over, it was the beginning of a great deal.
For she had such stories and regaled us with advice and wisdom galore.
We can never have Thanksgivings Day again without her said my daughter, Dore.
I agreed completely. Mrs. Daisy had added so much color to our meal.
We invited her every year after that, and it made Thanksgiving more real.
Adored, loved, and regaled from Melbourne to Perth
She's my blue heeler, the source of such joy and mirth
With her Dingo—DNA
She's a free spirit all the way
And the best mate one could ever hope for on earth!
3/4/23
Gluggy margarine marine grips keels
Apex sun spreads sickly circle of lard
Plugged lungs, gust momentum marred
Strait elongates co-ordinate, pace killed
Gliding knife grease fixed current kestrels
Impotent motor pendulums drowsy matelot
Vacating tranquillity served seas slow
Exoteric tampers spatula flat vapid vessel
Crusading armada cruise aquatic canyon
Rigid crucifix mast meanders evangelical
Illusive land sinks split quills, sodalite inkwell
Top-gallant swallowed, whale snack plankton
Inert surrender line honours, hundred strong
Quelled by existence Earth centric
Universe of solar centre offensive
Encourages complacent latent symposium
Rigging ties tradition to methods regaled
Order drifts on brittle fine line filament
Oceanic only planet confirms familiar
Moribund remains phobic, slick oil sailed
18th February
Fear of Anarchy
GAPS GIVE CRITIQUE ROOM
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