Short Spindling Poems

While we are old and spindling;
Trump did become a ding a ling
He set the pace, 
For a basket case
Thinks of all is master and king.

Jim Horn...

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All night the rain
Spindling the soil
Left his sweat
On sheets of trees
And pillows of roofs
And when the sun
Running across river
There were children
Like grass
Green and fresh 
And ready to cheer.
I could not
The house sprung a leak
And the sun
Told me I could sleep.
I was too tired
To protest or weep
My memory was soggy
From splashing bright
Drops of pain
Across the hungry mouth
Of wounded time....

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A spindling sun stream on bough's cloak spun
Melange of orange, yellow, red on foliage doth billow
Decadent Umbrella wields fluorescent shield o'er barren 
fields
Glinted blades colorful shades heighten
Bright-cherry, Oak leaf gloss doth floss
Purple haze of each Sweet Gum lobe doth tase
Yellow fringes on White Oak fingers waxes with gilding 
syringe
Orange Marmalade, Maple stars varnished with tinseling 
spade
Blue Beech crusted folds dusted with a brackish rust...

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