Brother stream was my closest friend.
He sifted from my slag a few shining gems.
Putting the shine back into my heart
after our dear mother departed.
Brother stream wove my burlap raggedness.
into something resembling his down gentleness.
He guided me away from the devil's black charade.
Lifting me just above life's burning cascade.
Brother stream who once took a beating for me
The truth is the truth, so now we all can just let it be.
Brother stream gently kneaded his signets to swans.
A beckon of light, whether it be dusk or dawn.
And when he was betrayed by life's jagged sin.
The signets that he'd raised flew back unto him.
Brother Stream's heart was speckled with gold.
My brother Stream, whom the lord, called back home.
A picturesque scene from my window this afternoon.
Banishing all greying clouds, the sky is pastel blue.
Radiating the sun's rays, rain was not seen for days.
Astonishing vibrant rainbow of flowers are strewn.
Clusters of marigolds, daffodils and lilies grow.
A glorious image appears in the far lagoon.
Delicate swans are gliding in the sparkling waters.
Adorable signets will be completely grown soon.
Bewitching aromas from where the white jasmine grew.
Rain was not seen for days, radiating the sun's rays.
Alluring sunset drenches all crimson, by the moon.
As I went strolling through the park
So blissful, so serene,
I was awestruck, stopped in my tracks
By the most enchanting scene!
Beneath the draping curtain
Of a Willow Tree's green
Lay a graceful pair of Swans
Right next to the stream!
To add to my enjoyment,
Their signets tottered near!
They ruffled their little feathers
In response to a sudden gust of air.
It truly was romantic.
It really made my day!
I was captured by this moment
And my worries flew away!
Withering daffodils are unnoticed--
my attention shifting mid-spring
to what’s new, more colorful.
I try not to see the dandelions,
glaring like headlights of oncoming traffic
whose presence will not be denied,
until beloved hyacinths
rescue the moment with spires of splendor,
rising as nature’s signets,
releasing what nostrils crave,
introducing the triple crown of spring--
hyacinth, lilac and viburnum.
Along the canal bank I
go, another day wandering
just a quiet stroll. Watching
the Swans as they happily
glide past, wagging tails and
a trail of five signets. This is
my walk of sweet bliss
may flowers are still beautiful
taking their resolute resolve
to shoot out
to sprout with
ever-new life
they come
home in beautiful colours
like weaver-birds
on the ancient trees
all the clan claps & sings
new songs -
the elders entoning
with tongues of new speeches
new speeches of old wisdom -
oh, come, behold their signets
her may flowers
seeking within these chambers
the merry maidens
of my niger
& her long-acclaimed drummers
whose red-caps were capped
upon old eagle-feathers
that made her clansmen
celebrate her appearance
like mbari dancers, our amazons
of years gone with the ancients
or the swahili dancers
from the east
& the matebele warriors
from the south -
for:
all the clan did clap & sing
new songs
of years a-gone with the ancients.
Turning this blank verse kaleidoscope towards
The ageless mountaintops....
Sealed aneath sine die scrolls amid
Probities as brass; calliope signets
Upon the colligere pages yet to be crafted
Afore....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....Sirius, whom gazes from above!?
Note: Smile ~ "A Signet of 'Love,'" John!:) ~
Signets and swans on a lakeside terrain
On bank for a pedestal high on the plain,
Steeped on the side and I just can’t explain
Why ducks who pretend they are swans once again.
With tall hat and tails, with a promised disdain,
For mimicking mute while the others maintain
Through casually chic but with doubt ascertain
What tattooed this fashion for it to remain.
Where jealousy rides, it’s the colour of down
Swans! White as perfect, to a duck’s dreary brown
The order of things on the lake show the town,
A fashion’s high stakes are a ducks tattooed gown.
From silt at the bottom to weed all around
A tall- hat and web-footed, clumsy old clown
Has made itself noticed, who hasn’t a frown,
And crowned itself champion from richly renown.
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