A hawk, moments after dawn,
circling.
Somewhere,
somewhere at the edge of near;
a somewhere known to the pessimistic
as far,
as there,
as not,
not
Here.
Not near.
Occasionally, a flashed shadow
over the sun-bleached apricot sky.
Just to the West.
Where the yellower light spills now
over the half-new roof and well-appointed chimney
of farm/field/stone.
Into the valley of clinging green
and the stone wall edge of the Farm
where the trees have one and all
forgot the late date.
They’ve
steadfastly, triumphantly, unarguably
argued for their summer-earned greens.
The moon is so high as to be unknown.
There above the maple.
There above the shred-ragged, yellowing
banana leaves -
the makeshift windvane of wavily oversea kelp.
Unknown
to the crook of neck,
to the poor sleepers,
to the cheap pillow resters.
It is such a slight sliver
that
it gives a cool shiver
to my flesh.
The momentary thought of,
a splinter of wood getting under skin.
The slight sharp sliver of dim silver moon
seems so sharp as to
threaten to deflate the dim blue,
the pale blue
October sky.
Categories:
resters, moon, seasons,
Form: Free verse
The devil sits with innocent eyes drooling in true love
Holding a fragrant rose to flatter my senses to rekindle love
His vicious intentions are to demolish my heart's lost love
But he is incorrigible and has dismally doused out my love
Blast his bony tail wagging hard at my bone china from the table!
Clobbering it in multitudes of eclipsed moons making it irreparable
Whining for clutter free chin resters, porcelains become irreplaceable
The cheeky charmer rivals everything that lives in my eyes cradle
He nudges and paws me to attention, whines for my deaf ears to hear
His heart heaves as he rests his head in my lap till arms hold him near
Categories:
resters, cute love, dog,
Form: Rhyme