Short Chorusing Poems

Rose
fragrance
sweetens air
birds chorusing
sun lit dappled glade
gold edged clouds overhead

Profuse floribundas
white petals tipped pink
wild columbine
creep tendrils
abloom 
tree


8/15/21...

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Your soul is a song,
Chorusing numerously.

Your many lives but a melody,
Resounding in your mind.

Your soul, a channeling
Of the sound of eternity.

Your soul is music,
So finely tuned.

Your soul is a song,
Filling this world of a room....

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I may have grown tired
     but my lungs have opened wide
Never to be so inspired
     as when we shut the divide

Now universally singing verses to be heard
voices chorusing uniformly wringing through the urn
which formed splits and fissures through my nervous cord
hexed cortex adorned with loose tissue and enormous horns
looming viciously against my dreams

     I am reborn...

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I awoke to the sound
of birds calling
Such joyous chorusing
In a Spring wood
 
So fresh
So new
The colours iIsaw
The vividness too
 
To run through
The trees
The wind upon my face
A sea of purple and blue
Flowers underfoot too
 
So many shades of green
In a spring wood
I was lost in between
 
Such a fresh dawn
Rosy red
To live life anew
To be reborn
Start again too...

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Shadows of no-hopers stretch,
escaping from the platform lights,
A stage where pride and egos dance,
where hearts will leash and cage their fight,
But all too soon I'll be the last,
still waiting on into the night.

Leaves play dead upon the tracks,
witnesses of goodbye sorrows,
Reluctant feet climb Station Bridge,
chorusing metallic echoes,
And though you left so long ago,
I'll wait for you again tomorrow....

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Shadows of no-hopers stretch,
escaping from the platform lights,
A stage where pride and egos dance,
where hearts will leash and cage their fight,
But all too soon I'll be the last,
still waiting on into the night.

Leaves play dead upon the tracks,
witnesses of goodbye sorrows,
Reluctant feet climb Station Bridge,
chorusing metallic echoes,
And though you left so long ago,
I'll wait for you again tomorrow....

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NIGHT SOUNDS
     By John T Haupt

Night sounds:

Crickets chorusing chirp chantingly, faint in the impious hum of climate-controlling boxes.

A dog's lonesome bark and a cat’s howl somewhere beyond the artificial light.

The clicking tap tap of me on my phone.
 
The silence where voices once sang in my head. 

When the growling boxes rest, winds push trees aside in a whisper.

But I have labors waiting in this symphonic hiatus of soft rest.
They usher me to bed....

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