Short Counterpane Poems

When a person is alone 
We tend to hide in a shadow 
As a group, we bring out the light
And things do not seem shallow 
Be strong and fierce 
Let your voice be heard and persevere 
Counterpane the garden 
And make your words clear...

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No one has that voluble to alter my thought 
Towards the confines of the mortal world 
When the futile began to repent for being guilt
Despite they vitiate their counterpane to proud 

I've now siezed all the majestic course
To pageant and impart all the morals 
Homage is what I'll do to be gratifying pride
And defeat all that dense over their depressions...

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I wheel to my corner
ostracised by your ebbing warmth
unyielding to my probing hand 
in the eeriness of NEP's darkdom
Memories tumble down my quavering spine
images splahed on your rigid back
of moisture ladden dawn and thrilling nights
under the watery spell of your moan-istrations
Now,I watch the defiant contours of 
your sensuous body 
miles across the counterpane 
protesting the pains of penuried existence...

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I'll lay down here and rest my head,
in this arc of stones I'll make my bed.
On the moss covered floor of the forest deep,
I'll close my eyes and fall asleep.
The stars shall be my counterpane,
and shelter me from gentle rain.
Moonbeams gild my tired eyes,
and breezes sooth me with their sighs.
No more for me the travails of life,
for nature shall become my wife.
Here, in the forest where wild things roar,
my heart will rest and ache no more....

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I skip one stone across the pond,
an oblate onyx dotting i's
in footles of a vagabond
who tiptoes after tiger eyes.

Perhaps the ripples left behind
are teary runes of gray moonstone
by starry sapphires once declined
for poesies of chalcedone.

In unison do pines recite
around the swaying cellophane
with spruce in verses malachite
on tawny-needled counterpane.

Soon aloe waters recompose
an epilogue of silent prose.


11/5/17
Image #1...

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Look into my mind.
I am the master of fantasy;
King of the isle of imagination,
Lord of the land of counterpane
Whereon I arrange the pieces of my life.
You are long gone, speaking no more, yet haunt me,
As some phantom lingers in his house of death,
Blindly walking rooms and corridors seeking,
Seeking lost life and love, and imagining,
Imagining that moment when you 
Contact me again, the spell of
Silence broken. And my
Foolish mind builds
Castles of hope....

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