I see the eye of an albino deer,
facing east, as I face north
It is almost silent
The sky is an empty granite gray
His eyes match
the mimosa flowers
that feather down in a fluffy rain
around us, unevenly
He looks at my hazel eyes,
probably not seeing the color
I hope he considers me
as I consider him
It is 5:15 on the road.
We are sandwiched in by woods
in the fatigued heat
of a drawn-out Sunday in June
when even the cardinals are tired of singing
The buttercups
are a dusty shade of mustard,
too dry to stand up straight
The male albino drops his head,
after figuring me out,
nibbles the hot grass
and flicks his ears
His tail swishes away a fly
A hungry mosquito
mocks this moment
and won’t leave my ears alone
The oaks and pines stop swaying
as if holding their breath
There is heavy honeysuckle
in the air, and smoke
Someone must be burning leaves
I am close enough to see
the velvet blush of his antlers
He is a four pointer
I count the seconds
and try to find meaning
in this
A red-shouldered hawk
announces itself
and the porcelain king
scampers off
into the thicket
scrubbing a floor
a repetitive chore
dusting a table
I do as I’m able
vacuuming
a boring thing
highly paid worker
housekeeper, no shirker
many of us despise cleaning
cluttered houses are where we’re leaning
washing dishes
rounded swishes
I clean with distaste
do each job in haste
repetition a bore
I have done it before
Pure, toned lightness gentles
life’s punched bruises, revives
to rejuvenate.
Whispered peace mingled with a
soft breeze swishes nirvana
feel on tingling skin.
Optimistic infinity
adorned in bright, wonder-filled
confident twinkles.
Makes me high, so high above
daily fair, I long to stay where
I can breathe His truth.
The wind speaks to us in whispers or roars-
accumulating unbalanced scores!
_ by Poet
Listen to the wind, as it speaks to us-
in a tiny whisper or an explosive rush.
Grasp what it foretells as it swishes by.
The wind's calm or violent moods can ease or crush.
A whispered breeze can cool the summer heat,
caressing us in a soothing, uplifting way,
as we find joy in its relaxing touch
beneath the sun's blaze on a hot and humid day.
Conversely, though, the wind can take a turn
to power local storms or those formed out at sea;
howling and churning- pushing giant waves
and signaling the tragic scene we can foresee.
We hear wind growling when it reaches land.
As a hurricane, it speaks fear along the path.
Trees, structures, and life- tumble by its force,
while the angry wind howls, vocalizing its wrath.
A force, gifting pleasure or horrid pain
from a kind whisper, stormy day, or hurricane!
Listen to the wind, as it speaks to us.
little piper, little piper
oh how fast you skip away
as the morning tide crawls in to taste the beach
briny swishes bring your breakfast
while you prance to greet the day
and they never seem to wet you
like you're privy to a chosen course of each
little piper, little piper
such a ballet you perform
when you twirl and pirouette your dainty feet
darting in-and-out the sea foam
just to keep them dry and warm
all with perfect form and motion
so as not to warn those little things you eat
little piper, little piper
you're the bane of every clam
watching closely for their bubbles in the sand
oh, the hermit crabs are missing
each-and-each now on the lam
and the hot sand gently hissing
as you try to sate your hungry chick's demand
little piper, little piper
all day long your work persists
as your tummy and your wee one both are fed
so with food enough to sleep on
'midst the creeping twilight mists
and as purple shadows deepen
comes the time to sing your little one to bed
little piper, now you dance in dreams ... instead.
Twilight tiptoes through curtained clover leaves
Spotless starlings flighty thank mighty Lord
spindly legs shake spritely on light breeze
chirping remind us day is just a chord
achievements complete marked confirming hours
manifesting with both hands and clear head
paper and pencil danced in neat bower
patterned sensations twirled needle and thread
silent hymn I await bright sickle moon
Spirit dissolves wanton wispy wishes
lotus blossoms, liberating mind a boon
intentions flowing with flimsy swishes
Moment to moment tasks tangent complete
every twilight heralds a morrow sweet !
____________________________________
[howmanysyllables.com : 140]
The coxswain calls the cadence
…I don’t like his tone
But I am forced to listen
Cuz he’s got the megaphone
I think my oar is twisted
As it defies my wishes
It hits the water making
Loud splashes and not swishes
The other oarsmen wonder
Why can’t he get in sync
They blame it on the fact that
My oar is painted pink
I close my eyes and memorize
The taste of burgers, hot, with fries
Ease my stroke into a rhythm
Knowing a distant tide abides
Poetic Diversion For Violin And No Orchestra
planet shoes tiptoeing
in cadences known to the mourning cloaks
their soft landings on spread petals
teach infinite lessons with splendid hot swishes
fan-tailing silently the unseen cricket kisses
rising and soaring like pepper tree phantoms
saying life is a slow dance in the moonlight
tall earring girl with perfume music blaring
penetrates the soft garden with red fantail kisses
turning the world around with splendid hot swishes
desperately embracing the pepper tree phantoms
planet shoes tiptoeing
I have a large print Webster’s dictionary on my desk.
I flip through it and write down words that interest me.
Then I decide what kind of poem I am in the mood to write.
If I want an alliterative poem I choose lots of words in the same section.
dictionary, dictated, diaphragm, diagnosis, diabolical
If I feel like an acrostic poem, I make sure I am spelling the word right.
Acrostic poems do not do well if the initial word is misspelled.
Sometimes I wake up, look at the sink in the bathroom and think
What if a miniature alien crawled out of that drain?
What if a cobra swished out and bit me while I was brushing my teeth?
My imagination loves playing this kind of game.
What if the refrigerator came to life?
What if an opossum crawled out of the toaster?
What would I do? What would I say?
Would the opossum be able to talk? Would it be pink?
My muse Trixie likes playing with these kinds of ideas.
She throws things at me during the day and during my dream state.
I often wake up with an idea for a poem.
Unfortunately, that idea usually peters out and dies before breakfast.
I have probably lost as many ideas as I have ever had.
Remembering the ages, spent with my shadow – priceless moments when I sought her, scrutinized her, emphatically stalked her because, in reality, she was clearly stalking me! ~ quote by poet
~~~
Flowing, a silhouette, dancing
Under streams of delicate light
In gentle whispers, entrancing
Persuasive musings who excite
Echoes of starry eyed wishes
Glistening beneath the moonlight
Sighs melt the breath as she swishes
Persuasive musings who excite
Glowing, figures freely strolling
Gesturing to the roaring night
Old followers need consoling
Persuasive musings who excite
Flowing, a silhouette, dancing
Persuasive musings who excite
The large black rat snake established residence inside.
When we try to scoop it up she is keen enough to hide.
She slithers and swishes in a kind of frantic frenzied glide.
I hope she does not appear and scare our newest bride.
This is a wedding dress store, full of tulle and pearls from the tide.
We do not want to advertise that we have a resident snake inside.
It might frighten away our customers, and grandmas of the bride.
I hope that if we cannot catch it, the snake will continue to hide.
Magic happened on the shore of the Montezuma horizon
Two genies appeared, Mondomay and Mighizeb
Dressed in gauzy dainty chiffon, carrying two cats and a swan
They were a corpulent two, one with brown eyes, the other blue.
What wishes did you have? A new goat, sheep, donkey or calf?
People pleasers all the way, their attention made my day.
Illustrious and lovely, they had suggestions, but kept them hidden.
We are not allowed to share our ideas, even if prompted and bidden.
I told them I would have to think and Mighizeb’s face turned pink.
We might run out of wishes, said Mondomay, as he washed my dishes.
For this had been my first wish, as I despise redundant dishrag swishes.
You wasted a wish! Said my husband Mouse who now lives in his mama’s
come here quickly said my sister
her voice was two swishes above a whisper
see that fly up there on the east bedroom wall?
he showed me his butt, and it was not small.
I laughed at this craziness, for I did not know
the plotting butt-wiggling fly would soon dart below
He also wiggled his posterior at me, in my face!
It was bubbliciously big, a complete insect disgrace.
How dare you do that, you are harassing me! I said.
I got a flyswatter, determined to make that fly soon dead.
He laughed at my efforts and wiggled his butt again.
It was bigger this time, I swear, not at all thin.
We called in our mother who brought in some spray
But that butt-wiggling fly zipped out the window and got away.
Can you believe how brazen he was? My sister asked me.
I was watching the fly who was buzzing away in the form of a Z.
Somewhere in the bowels of purgatory lives a horned me-devil drinking tea
Most know he is too evil to comprehend, others run into him, including me.
We knew not to look into his dastardly devilish dank deadened eyes.
If we face him as an equal, our souls would never have opportunity to rise.
He swishes around edges of purgatory, throwing his weight and his coat.
Bleating in a weird dead way that makes you think of Hades monster goat.
words cannot describe what you would fathom if you ran into him in the dark.
If you can be kind and helpful, do it, to avoid his devil's owner scratching mark.
on a magical dreamy morning of rain
whispering pitter-patter, pitter-patter…
restless wind rustling through falling leaves,
murmuring softly stories from the past!
cerulean clouds floating across luminous sky,
fragrance from scented Jasmine swishes me away
to childhood, drip-drop whisper by misty rain,
resonates tender memories of endless joy!
you whisper poignant soft words of love in
a velvety voice, my ultimate happiness
being with you, listening to raindrops,
in tender togetherness, I am breathless!
April 25, 2023
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