As I memorize these perfect sunsets,
the sky goes from bright red to tangerine.
The world is mine and I have no regrets.
I’ll drag the ocean home in my pockets
a reminder of this bewitching scene,
as I memorize these perfect sunsets.
Enjoying unwinding with tea and sweats,
it’s back to my normal evening routine.
The world is mine and I have no regrets.
I ran carefree throughout all the inlets
a vision brought back by aquamarine,
as I memorize these perfect sunsets.
My hair hangs damp in waterfall ringlets,
I hold a peace I could not have foreseen.
The world is mine and I have no regrets.
Souvenirs mean more than any assets,
flashbacks are a portal to what I’ve seen.
As I memorize these perfect sunsets,
the world is mine and I have no regrets.
Like the first snow,
Like the rain
Like the dead red leaves of autumn
Everything is gracefully falling
Into place
The way I did things before is gone
The character that did them is gone, too
I blow her away like autumn leaves
I cast her into the air like softest snow
I let her heaviness flow like water
Seeping into every in-between
Rippling, touching everything
I laugh as I go
Mother Moon whispers to me
That I am her daughter
And she has prepared a place for me
Upon her ivory shores
Where I can gaze in perfect view
At our father, Great Sun
And I’ll soak in every detail
As if the battle’s already won
The trees stand still and tall
Still, they are falling
They are shedding their old layers
They are girding their waists with ringlets, they are
Shaving bald their heads, they are
Preparing for the bare, still night of winter
To adorn themselves at dawn
The trees are standing still
Like the first snow, I am softly falling
Into the arms of grace
Like the trees, I am silently rising
Stretching out my unused wings
The basilisk, that feathery serpent, shalt zeal and mealy diners shall burn the fat livestock until englutted but this arrowhead does not deter unless one such valiant god strums that homage to be paid in ringlets, like golden peaks that drip flaming golden wax, the climb is taxing but preeclampsia is not unmatched.
her hair was golden, curly ringlets
it shone in the sun
she laughed at everything
life was her delight and she was delightful
she brought the party to her family daily
she became an angel
at age four
her hair was golden
but her face was still
she looked like a sleeping doll
she is now forever four, but never forgotten
Lavender wisteria spills
of hundred blooms, God's tokens sprawl
like ringlets crowned where fields stand tall
Lavender wisteria spills
adorned in silk...how I recall
a lush brocade new morn refills--
Lavender wisteria spills
of hundred blooms, God's tokens sprawl !
Spectacular is the planet Saturn.
Second largest planet in Solar group
holding extensive gorgeous ring-pattern.
Rocky icy ringlets form hula hoop.
Ring system is to lose ice particles.
to ring - rain constant and continuous.
Stunning ring will be gone, not miracle
within million of years , oblivious.
The gas giant holds no solid surface.
Mostly are helium and hydrogen
Buttery yellowish brown, more or less.
Atmosphere is enriched by nitrogen.
In dense atmosphere , runs strong wind-power :
Hexagon typed storm at North Pole : alive.
Saturn day is less than eleven hours.
Year exceeds twenty -nine years : Do believe.
Ninety five times more massive than the Earth
In water could float, extreme light Saturn.
Two hundred seventy four Moons took birth.
With hydrogen lakes, biggest is Titan.
Before a looking glass
where butterflies whirl
and fan iridescence,
a party girl sways
pearlesque beads
entwined in raven ringlets.
Crooked candlelight
gasps and gutters
amid spectral murmurs.
Muted droplet
External ringlets
Outbreak
Silent explosion
Immensely vibrant
A splatter
A simple wavering
That spreads outward
From within
Torn ripple
Wake up the eyes
To wink
Massaging me with body oil,
I am now your woman to spoil.
My hair’s become ringlets.
With an arch in the jacuzzi,
I lay back let you taste me.
String pearls and cigarettes.
There is an absence of my voice,
save an inarticulate noise.
The sound of a branding.
Your adept hands apply pressure,
hit that line of pain and pleasure.
My heart’s understanding.
Where do you end and I begin?
My safe word is ‘Separation’.
Manicured nails cut glass.
Mirrors left completely shattered,
lips left soiled and tattered.
Pure lux in sassafras.
Scarlet ribbons are woven into her hair,
titan ringlets frame her beautiful face.
Never refusing to wiggle her pert derriere,
rich men pay big to ogle nubile Ella Grace.
Huge feather fans ensure she’s never bare ~
Ella’s folks aren’t aware of her work place!
My mother’s curls were teeny tiny, ringlets of gray
Tightly wound, as if they had been set around toothpicks
My sister and I had golden curls until we were two.
They gave us a haircut, and that was the end of them.
Our brother had curls, but they embarrassed our father.
He did not think he looked like a real boy with them.
I think he was relieved when Richard’s toddler head was shaved.
Our father never had a curl; his hair was thick and stiff.
Five people living in the same house.
Only one kept her curls.
Ink Drops Like Rain
The Devil tried to take a bite of me.
I watched his ringlets twirl.
I've finally reached the spot
where I knew I was going to be.
It's a lose lose, to hell
and back to tell all that I see.
I asked for pens from the devil's guard.
He thinks he knows my name.
For months now I roam these empty halls,
and now the song is gone.
My name is hidden beyond the star's pain-
it hides within a song.
My pen is like my weapon, far mightier than the sword-
it splashes ink drops like the rain.
'Till it too catches old.
Which is more vivid, the seventeen-year-old or her flaming dress?
Fat Rita Hayworth ginger ringlets swirl around her porcelain face.
Her lips are radiant red tonight, does she have any idea of her beauty?
An artist, walking through a gallery, looking for her own showing.
If there was ever anyone more gorgeous, I do not know of it.
She glides with the delicate confidence of a shy faerie goddess.
The Raven: A Date with Death
I danced a date
a date with Death.
He sat me down for tea.
In the darkness sat the swirl
of infinity.
The ringlets 'round his brow
did stain the spirits evermore.
'Where do you hail?' he asked in disdain.
'I come from nowhere, yet anywhere, and I'll
go there all again.'
Death looked displeased, forlorn.
He longed to take another soul.
But my muse is cloaked in folklore.
Stories guide me home.
I was bound to Earth, you see.
Another just as old.
Another soul as wise as mine.
As clever, as bold.
But sharp ones poison,
wither,
drown.
Another soul lost evermore.
She's still broken, this soul of mine.
Every hour, every tick and click.
Cracked, split, broken.
Never to be healed.
My love does not belong
behind closed glass or hidden in song.
But I fear I've lost, my muse is drowned.
By waves of sea, so mote it be.
Until home she stays.
From stolen glances and parting gaze.
Just beyond the violet haze.
Exquisite Toronto water reflections
Lake’s hair is in pretty natural stagnant ringlets
An owl takes a perch in the design I see
her lovely paths lead somewhere
oak trees are readily reflected in her depths
has this waterway devoured people?
she has mesmerized many, of course,
and now I am one of her worshippers
It was a gray day a few minutes ago
Now it is much more pink and exciting
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