Whispers in tears of velvet squares apposed to yellow sunshine.
I can only sense in shades of the most prominent colours of the rainbows
I sit watching the crowds of people walking faster than he knows
You are untracable in waterfalls cascading trumpets playing all goes
We walk hand in hand to keep the demons aways from the scarecrows
Look at the diamond how prescoius it looks with all the colours of universe in rose
Sorry if this doesn,t catch your imagination but my time flies faster as time flows
Persist my friend because one day the arch of your back will bend and tomorrow you will be smaller and you will dose
Relinquish your arms and follow the sound of the tambourine bouncing in your head once it will say how it bows
Polite people follow me because I have dared to dream about the way that sorrow shows
Into your anguish tainted by members of the elite to watch you try once again in tatters as she grows
I feel complete in actions and intent while my dog snoozes for teztimecwill pose
Yes the whispering tears of velvet squares apose to yellow sunshine butvreme ber the white light alwaysxand forever glows.
In summer, listless feel of sloth he gets,
stops the sluggish time, the clock hands he sets.
In hot kitchen he doesn’t go,
keeps whipped eggs on portico.
He snoozes in shade, sun cooks omelettes.
In summer, sluggish sense of sloth he gets,
stops the lazy time, for clock’s hands he sets.
In hot kitchen he doesn’t go,
keeps whipped eggs on portico.
He snoozes in shade, sun cooks omelets.
warm glow in the hearth
border collie snoozes on the rug
quiet shadows surround me
In summer, sluggish sense of sloth he gets,
lazy time passes him by, he forgets.
In hot kitchen he doesn’t go,
keeps whipped eggs on portico.
He snoozes in shade, sun cooks omelets.
My opponent will destroy democracy
But my opponent will normalize hypocrisy
My opponent pays hush money to whores
Well, my opponent snoozes in meetings and snores
My opponent’s in cahoots with radical progressives
But my opponent’s tax cuts are regressive
My opponent is in bed with Putin
Well, my opponent for Iran is rootin’
My opponent’s spending will stoke inflation
But my opponent’s plans will increase starvation
Enough! Stop! Cut! Halt!
It’s not all the other guy’s fault
All this negativity makes one thing clear
I’m voting for the first candidate I can cheer
strewn thoughts
The skinny dog
snoozes on the graveyard's lawn
at ease with the stillness of the night
The fruit of the carob tree
looks like a cotton pickers hand
on an autumnal beach
a bottle of suntan oil
tells how the summer was
A lone streetlamp sways
a drunk staggers home
he used to be an actor, stops and sing
A seagull fancied to be human
used lotion and combed feathers shiny
Alas, it was hacked to death
by those that resist any change
Midnight lavender echoes whisper,
As the song of the rooster fades.
Mauve tackles the sky with a blush,
Curly coral clouds are dressed in buffed bronze shades.
Ebony snoozes in the round,
As the moon takes center stage.
Stars twinkle as diamonds in the sky,
And the night is peaceful page.
In the nocturnal retreat,
Nature's symphony plays on.
The rustling of leaves in the breeze,
And the distant hoot of an owl's song.
The world is quiet and still,
As if holding its breath in awe.
And in this tranquil moment,
All worries and fears withdraw.
In the nocturnal retreat,
There is a sense of calm and peace.
A reminder that in the darkness,
There is still beauty and release.
June 06, 2023
nocturnal retreat
mauve tackles midnight
lavender echoes whisper ~
song of the rooster
curly coral clouds
dressed in a burnished bronze blush ~
ebony snoozes
round rosiness yawns
in wispy gossamer hush ~
the sweet scent of pink
puffy plumes of gold
like lush heavenly spindrift ~
nocturnal retreat
6/6/23
I sit here relishing
a custard-filled
and chocolate-topped
choux bun.
If I had a trumpet
I’d surely blow it.
It seems that I’m
“An Emerging Poet”
and, icing on the cake,
I’ve “got potential”.
Imagine my elation
at such an unexpected
elevation. My many years
of scribbling, so long
unheralded, unheard,
pleasing but me and me alone,
and now at last the gods atone
for past disdain
and disappointment.
Yet even as I contemplate
my new persona, I surely know
a day of reckoning awaits.
In old age now, my words
grow trite and rusty.
I fear that, sitting here,
awaiting inspiration
for yet another new creation,
my rhyming days are almost done
and, truth be told, I’d rather have
another deliciously inspiring bun,
to be followed by, maybe, just perhaps,
another of my afternoon naps.
Cold weather front
A few good days fooled us the cold weather returned we thought it was
early spring. I worried if my almond tree had its buds been damaged
and will not bloom and strews petals on the lane,
the illusion of frost, the princes in the tower saw in the fairy tale.
The fire in the grate is exuding warmth the dog no one owns snoozes in a chair,
no, the heart to throw it out
I’m not a tree hugger, but give trees a friendly slap
a sucker for the down and out bought a chicken for a Roma women
begging outside, the guard said, “you must not feed
them” like they should be vermin.
I love my almond tree reminded me of my mother when she was old,
so sweet her face in her frailty.
simply awake
No music lulls
No quiet snoozes
No counting naps
No stretching tires
My clock taunts me
No comfort lullabies
No breathing relaxes
Pajamas strangle me
No coolness soothes
No meditation stupors
No visualization sleeps
No position tranquilizes
No supplements sedate
No aromatherapy calms
or finger painting slumbers
I am insomnia’s vigilant sentry.
Where, oh where's the sandman?
I simply find out how to get two hours of sleep.
A walled bastion around your neck is steep.
Elitists commend this moderate landmark.
While visiting vacationers all around the park.
Here's the way your body will in general look.
Arms are stone squares stained with a nook.
A fleece tee lands on the body with a thud.
Despite that, late spring clothing is very scud.
They linger the same as wet palm fronds.
To the path, skirting the drain's ponds
Your toe pain is a metaphor for it anyway.
I squirreled away in a pair of boots to stay.
On the road, the eyelids are shovels.
The white line devours the car's labels.
Written: November 14, 2021
Sleeping sun
The audacious sun finally showed up
and green was the winter landscape; I also saw
where the sun sets, behind the carob tree
soundly and snug under a carpet of wildflowers
the sun snoozes till dawn.
Over the easterly range, which is the first defence
against Spanish marauders and the rain on the plane
the clouds were dark blue, more rain tomorrow.
I the fading light musical notes dance down a phone line,
The first flirt of spring?
Should it rain tomorrow, I will not be downhearted
this day will keep me warm for a week or so.
I sit; dog snoozes; bees parade
In, out, in, over, under flowers
Buzz-ZIP! with pace and poise and purpose
A hum of bees spell us to sleep.
Written on 5th July 2021
Submitted for Workshop: Adjectives Deleted Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jack Webster
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