Short Jove Poems

Logging on Facebook
Feeling as if he’ll never—
By Jove! He wrote back!...

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Cold waxing crescent 
settles in the west, 
an Islamic smile 
over natal night.
Behind us Jove wakes
and rises.
  
MS 12/25/14...

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An ode by Jove 
 to that old toad 
 who ate my fish 
 as I made a wish 
 and kissed him on the lips 
 to find my  prince.

But alas 
 he had no crown
 so I tossed him down 
 hard and angry in to the briar 
 at last I saw him for what he was 
 just a toad and a liar....

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Blazing in the heat of pure passion
Glazing I to confront my secret Jove.
Ingenious looks, romantic gestures
We feed each other to satiate.
Our heart pulsates one at the same.
Can anyone burning in such fire?
Can extinguish the scorching flames.
The life and blood of the poet....

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Shrouded

Shrouded, in a mist,
Enriched, in a cyst;

I saw you skid,
Slip, in a slit;

Diving in your cove,
Hiding in your jove;

Rolling down the hills,
I saw you in the midst;

In chaos, I reigned,
And in silence, it rained;

Reminding me of you,
Gliding into the hue.....

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Platoons of imps march up and down my street,

Threatening mayhem if I don't give them a treat!

There are cowboys, Indians and phantoms galore,

Holding me hostage at my own front door!

They present their goodie bags for me to fill;

(Giving them an apple doesn't at all thrill).

Sure, they'd prefer a Reese's or Snickers treat,

But, by jove, I'm keeping them for me to eat!...

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My pen is still,
The ink is dry;
The words have gone,
Have passed me by.
No poems am I to write this day;
The will to write has fled away.

But don't be too sad if I don't sing;
Another day a song I'll bring.
The words I had that spoke of love,
Will come again, and soon, by Jove!

And into my fist my pen will fly,
And I'll list the words that passed me by,
And lush words of love at last I'll say,
And I'll make up for this empty day!...

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There is no shadow to the Sun
nor boundary to his abundant rays
he doesn't know a moment's peace
neither the meaning of a "root."

Wherever he tries to cast a shadow
each time his light will be there first
By Jove, indeed, a high price to pay
for wishing to see everything.

Inspecting all, all will be there to see you
no piece of you a secret and your whole is bare
without even a speckle of the shadow of an ant
for your soul to find rest and refuge there....

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oh come  my love
lets go deep into the woods
He will guide us ,the one above
I am there don't worry about the hoods

I would love to
I know lets leave things on Him
He will take care about things we do
our love is full to the brim

don't my love sit to doubt
my love for you will never die
He's there and His care all about
I won't desert, don't worry or cry

I know you will care n He's there
come then my love lets move
lets, our  times  n lives share
this is desired by JOVE....

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I
What weather will welcome roaming?
Any, if it's sunny, she says
Off they go, Thomas Hardy tales recalling ...
Roaming the veld, let me count the ways -

II
If we were cattle, we would range
If we were bandits we would rove -
No roots in "Rome," that's strange?
R O A M, it's a word for today, by Jove!

III
Students would read the root word is "roven"
Way back from 1300, Middle English, I'd say
A word, if attended, becomes like one chosen
Revealing history while "rambling" today...

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