Short Boreas Poems

Notus so wet & wild

Eurus a dryer warm child

Zephryus a sudden gale

Boreas brutal outside the icy pale...

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Boreas!
What a bully you are.
You push your burdened mist
Against our proud brick walls,
Whipping up words in torrents.
Spiraling, spitting
Surf more appropriate
For the weathered cliffs,
The wispy eye of the sky.

Yet you provoke in me
Such wanton desires....

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The blue sky stretches away as a happy friend
As the spring wins and winter ends
The warmth of the sun on aching bones is luxurious 
Boreas’ chilly breath  fades to memory for us
With the promise of lazy days
And new memories of the golden days and ways.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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Sown is a season of glistening deceit, 
A biting canvas signed by Jack, 

Boreas rages over land and sea, 
Burning flesh with northern winds,

Stripped  arthritic sinews plead,
End this ice dome lock in, 

White blinded adventurers,
Navigate the ramblings of a cold dictator,

Winter slaves man and all,
Until the fire storm returns,...

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Push me against my back, hit in my face,
like any wind you’re elemental and erratic.
Give me a licking or unhurriedly caress,
play hide-and-seek – a child in father’s jacket. 

Not telling me what winds await ahead –
dead calm, strong gale, dry hot or boreas. 
As the entire world the only truth as old –
last breeze of mine shall fan my deadly face....

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Pan’s Frolicsome Guffaw

’Tis the eve of The Equinox.

Methinks I hear midst Boreas’ frozen rattlings,
an unsticking of great Pan’s frolicsome guffaw;
a cheering hint of his sweet pipe!

The warming sun doth his winter’s musings thaw,
his slumberous desire arousing.

His torpid chill’d soul methinks unbends
in vernal cabbage nigh, in newly trickled streams;

Finish’d then to be, his frosty
abjuration of sweet Syrinx!...

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Sing, sing a song of freedom,
fly, fly messenger of the world.
Glide through Aeolus carrying the word.
Let nothing hinder your flight of peace.
Be not afraid of God's message.
Just glide, messenger, glide.

Sing, beauty of song, sing.
Sing it loud, peace. Sing it clear, peace.
Sing the song for all to hear.

Let it ride on Boreas, glide on Zephyr,
whisk through Favonius and Eurus.
Sing, that glorious message of our Lord.
Sing that precious song....

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SPRING SONG

It starts with a few birds in chorus
The liberated sun has warmed their feathers
Snow is mostly gone    and
The ground looks muddy-warm
Grass and weeds – still lightly green -  are rustled
     by some faint    lonely breeze escaped the jaws
     of Boreas
Yes    there is a song in the air    
And if you listen closely    its words –
                                                      by imagination-
   might tell of a lusty God’s new love affair...

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