Short Spun Sugar Poems

Birds fly formation
towards pink spun sugar clouds 
Into tomorrow....

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fluffy spun sugar delight


fingers become pink and sticky


wipes are discovered




                    P.R.Deremer...

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cotton candy clouds
puffy and sweet
they look like spun sugar
reminding me of a meditative carnival
I walk in the silence
appreciating the beauty of the sky...

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A kaleidoscope of paper-thin wings,
as fragile as spun sugar,
weave a serpentine dance
along the weathered, rugged stone steps.

Swallowed up by the blinding light
in their wake, each wingbeat leaves
only the faintest ripple—barely a sigh—
that once painted their fleeting existence.
...

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Snow fell in dollops, in kite like laziness
too wet to stay white except in the margins.
The contrary air kisses each flake
melting each heart of ice.
Bittersweet the temperature falls.
Teardrops cling to greedy braches
reminiscent of hand stitched jewels
on a queen's gown.
The matted margin of lingering grass
crisps like spun sugar
snow flakes on the lash of night....

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Pillows of cacao,
webs of spun sugar hold you;
Chocolate cocoon,
it soothes your lips with a sweet;
Your sigh tightens with each taste;

After hours boost,
that pick me up melts the wounds
dragging through your mind;
The past remains behind you 
thanks to a euphoric fix;

With a hyperactive smile 
so high on those endorphins
you’re buzzing, humming;
Seduced with a single drop 
of the chocolaterie....

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The gypsy moth’s nest 
clung like cotton candy, spun sugar;
wet and weighty to the pendulous boughs,
of white birch and maple
a deadly adornment shrouding the forest
in an air of decay.

A miasma of atmosphere
Muffled the morn;
dampening the resolve
mystifying the mundane
multiplying the cloying scent
of fallen leafs;
solidifying the webs of moth and man
unifying the monochrome scene....

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As I inhale
the pink swirl of
cotton candy on my breath.
Although I haven't been near it
in years.
Where does it come from?
Is it the world of
sexual confection that
spins around, sticky sweet
like spun sugar
holding fast until
the melting point?
I should taste the
bitterness of cigarettes,
grapes of cheap wine
or the breath of beer.
Although this morning after
the sugar rush whirls
in by mouth
like a searching kiss......

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