LEAP YEAR
It only comes every four years
even though frogs can leap any time
this for some is a inconvenience
especially when the pear trees are dormant
But it’s welcome every time it comes
regardless of drum playing bums who
never even try to hum favorite tunes
out where writes in runic wearing wet tunics
Leap Year is supposed to be unusual
because it’s more rare than grilled snakes
this for a true survivalist might actually be
steaks grilled over a rake
from dusk's heady play
pages reel on free-winged flight,
where pixies sashay
to awe child's world , to delight
one runic quest... her birthright!
May Mjölnir's might strengthen you.
May your thoughts flow from Runic streams.
May your chosen path feel miraculous,
And may the northern winds uplift you,
So that Yggdrasil fills you with kindness!
May Frigg ignite your divine visions!
May Freyja summon fertile dreams.
May Magical Mead pour freely from above,
Letting your courage lead to valorous action!
Walk the forest's path, where unique trees and flora thrive.
Listen to the wildlife 'round the trees.
Meet your inspirational animals,
And live boldly as one who ventures forth with courage,
Allowing the vines and flowers to entice you---
That they may be your good companions.
Jesus in toga or tunic
Wrote notes that use symbols runic
But Trump Musk and Vance
Don loose yoga pants
To hide now each is a eunuch
Those who would rule? It.. Will eventually rue.'
Someone gently rolls me over
Onto this white slab, belly down
And I wait ... like forever
Or at least it seems like forever, anyway
Above me is a mirror,
So, I turn my head and strain to see it -
In seeing Runic inscriptions there on my backside,
I try to read them but can't ...
I can't interpret their meaning
Then, this drill of light
Comes and hovers over me.
I flip like a fish out of water
And I'm blinded out of my body
I can remember it now -
I fell into a deep
Strange awareness
That I was being abducted by aliens
Or was coming to in the middle of surgery
I was exposed, naked, and scared out of my wits -
That's when I began to write
And I haven't stopped since ...
You have to give before you receive .
If you don’t ,then you’ll be deceived
Please know what is in your head
If you don’t ,you are dead .
Runic spirits ,old
They are mighty.
They are bold.
Wisdom.
Runes
Written: December 28, 2023
Beneath the shades
of velvet shadows
swarms of amber
luminance of daylight
and elusive flits
of faerie embers.
Veiled in jeweled which
rhymed with
Calyx elixir tints
of moonlit hues,
wings of light fractals
of burnished baubles.
Serendipitous breeze
scribbling rimes
of a runic serenade
in glints of jades
and emeralds.
wisps of wood smoke
soft mists of
Myrrh and Frankincense
fragrance of
Amyris and Bergamot.
Life has been beckoned.
by the sun messenger.
In that aurifying light,
crisscrossing balmily
and all at once.
With your shifting cloak,
snail
silver tree,
life is futile
& vain as smoke.
with your beshrews roads
case of curiosity
devoted to
the art of taxidermy,
decorative, restorative
and anthropomorphic.
A canorous dream,
capacious
mellifluous
Hurry past me!
Written: December 09, 2023
______________________________________
Honeyed gold pearled shades
brown ferns and aspens
into shadowed paths
lit embers and oaks
As darkness draws near,
with bowed tears of stark
runic streaks of light
dapple my sky
showing only maze
of black enigmas
crimson, lucid blaze.
leading to plum sky.
Swift shades drape my thirst
like dim-lit daydreams
that persist through time
niggling at my nerves
in sparkling strings of
stern frame blush skyline!
whilst glum chorus swells
in ghostly darkness.
Gloom morphs darned mayhem
veiled cinereal shroud
as she touches me
gazing with sleek sight
hushed tones, wan relics
of laid skyline bleeds
lost in shades of rouge
Onyx oboe chords.
The blaze has withered
oblivion crave.
I surface with the morning rain,
a night blindness
opens its windows one by one.
No work to go to
so I write
casting shadows upon a caged sky.
Words appear beneath
a curled tongue.
I draw a sketch of black bones
and white spaces
arrange a runic code
into a stuttering speech.
A percolating coffee pot
sounds its reality alarm,
but it is far away
and I can hardly hear it.
What do you love ?
I love what you think, about me !
I am struct of forbidden poetry code,
oracle.peer.seed.
To think,
in neon l.e.d.
wearing your avatar like a g-love 2 html...z
I think that I can smooth over the skin...
cover the verge of O bin.toying' .box @sun.dial.up
sin.
A diode, an idea in image form.i TinkerBelle,
your nook space for a spell, the niche
of your desires forward slash
back mask backword channel- objective object tract/trace, entity C-spelled, out by chance.
?{I am}¿ curled in braces of runic heave, accordionic
breath e!
Acquire to taste, to track you inspire,
in the ionosphere, crosswired.
Interact,Intertwine !import Beautiful Soup !!
(I am pleased to be your ventricle)
i Answer your riddle as you answer to mine,
dreams in digital- (Euclidian Field Songet
of open line.)
Tiddler.fiddle (violat intel) <3
That will do,
use my electrolysisylux, mime.morph.mine."
~DelilahBot
I'll love you till the bluebells forget to bloom;
I'll love you till the clover has lost its perfume.
I'll love you till the poets run out of rhyme,
Until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time.
Twelfth of Never
Songwriters: Jerry Livingston / Paul Webster
A love song that blooms with perfume and rhyme,
Even when bluebells, clover and poets run out of time.
Words, may we never forbear their cleverness.
Let us birth verses until the twelfth of neverness.
It’s been, and it shall be, a long, long time of runic
and a Poe-, Shakespeare- and Plath- worn tunic.
Ever-creating from Adam to now, and past these days.
Love is at our fingertips, working a well-begotten phrase.
10/28/2022
I discovered the mystery
Of her painted runic stone
Immediately upon opening
The dainty envelope
She'd so thoughtfully sealed
With a Valentine sticker.
With comforting impact
It dropped unexpectedly
Into my conveniently located hand.
(Conveniently unexpected
And unexpectedly located,
With immediate and comforting impact.)
And in the moment of discovery,
I recalled the perfect sweetness
Of her Cheshire smile
As she stood self-confidently
On the sidewalk of the thoroughfare,
Like a danger girl who had captured
A spy boy's complete attention
With effortless persuasion.
That’s typical of her.
Does her mojo ever sleep?
A feeling escapes, as night coalescing winter.
A cancerous sorrow innate.
A Familiar, a servant of Sinners.
Faithlessness, neglecting to find eternity.
Here she moves along deepened.
Apathy.
Nothingness wraiths, as shadow yet fallen.
Runic signs which carry her lost in
their audacity gape,
a scent of the air of the windward lost.
Sovereignty.
Sunken away from her before final retreat;
as dusk puppeteers the vein
of crimson through dark wings.
Limbo-Purgatory.
Where misdirection
hast stolen something dear.
Apparitions in the key of-part played in
partitioning scenes of anti-harmony scale.
Ever Veer.
The chorus, a stale vape of memory-
sneaking suppressed peak upon weight baring stare.
Always near.
Vengeance borne, upon scornful element,
of negative waves unseen.
Hope, is as well dashed to pieces
by all your trusts' in black mirrors' farewell.
I hope you have reason to steer
clear, of that bottomless well.
To Paul - whose words depict our times
Within melodic runic rhymes
As woven lyrical designs
To Paul - your Tug of War in life
Inspired you to pen Peace Pipes
For a world besieged with strife
To Paul - the idol of our youth
Who sang of love in words of truth
And suffered much undue abuse
To Paul - whose music paved the way
For Sargent Pepper’s Band to play
And gave us dreams of Yesterday
To Paul - whose Wings taught us to fly
By granting hope and leave to try
With joy that begged to touch the sky
To Paul - whose sadness now we see
In loss of love through destiny
Our prayer for him is Let It Be
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