Tag Archives: poem

Among

Among the quichens grows a kree
a site-astoric flustsymbly.

A kree is there, not roneously,
but freet and gorl and groverly.

And how it came to grow just there,
the primmets wonder with atious care,

For quichens do not keep or share
their time or place or own elsewhere.

The primmets garnered brave and asked
the kree just how it came to pass

that it was given reign to mass
and live with quichens, in their class.

The kree looked puzzled, audly moussed
the primmetts had not gaged – deduced

the kree was here for years to roost
and shared it with the quichens fruste.

A song of origins

When the leaves are swept away at night
and the chill cleaves to me,

I am reminded that I am descended
from those who worked the land.

tilled soil – tossed stone
to harvest, afford a life of

growing and yearning, splitting
and churning a song of origins

as a lantern tilted
sheds light on enclosed spaces

of circumstance. Places where poems
are seen, but not written.

Tuneful sounds once heard in the labors
of daylight, lulled by passing clouds

and mute when night comes on. Dirt is rinsed
from beneath fingernails and sleep arrives early

with a crisp quilt. Night whispers
it’s own beginning and the wind tosses aside
that which grips me.

even tide

Somewhere, the moonlight
turned to give credence
to her tangled removing.
A breaker rolled in
that enticed
and embraced her.
Demands awakened-
her own hurt and pooling.

Somehow, a surging rush
made the unknown electric.
Bristling with joy,
fingered in choosing,
a lover in darkness,
confessing and soothing.

double

There is little left
of thread that ties and undulates
through fabric’d whys.
The whats have gone the wayside now
with time – the when –
don’t ask me how.

This never was infinite string
-ain’t what it used to be,
this thing that stitched my words
in canvas, starched and mended-
just as December ended.

So, with anew, fresh double cloth
the patterns swirl
without the gloss and keep me warm
in thoughts subdued
of music,
sweet – the words are true.

A Carol at Christmastime

As with the angels that caroled
His arrival in stable, bare.
Praises, Alleluia, Hallelujah!
A King is there.

And with the shepherds,
Who worshipped with humble hearts,
Praises, Alleluia, Hallelujah!
The Savior has come. To start

God’s kingdom on earth,
A baby, a birth
Of Hope and Salvation
Of Love, Joy and Mirth.

As with the Wise Men
That wandered in wonder of stars,
Praises, Alleluia, Hallelujah!
We’ll find where we are.

At Christmas, our Hopes revive!
Yuletide, our Joy is alive!
Open your hearts and sing
Tell every living thing-

Praises, Alleluia, Hallelujah
The birth of a King!

********************
While this is unabashedly joyful (with many exclamation points), Christmas is a joyful time. I can just imagine this being sung with brass and tympani.

My hopes for you (if you do or do not celebrate Christmas)is a happy, blessed day.

A very Merry Christmas!

garnish

Bare trees anticipate
holding snow – amassed
in silent devotion
to the aesthetic

adorning the view
once green – now
lifeless and worn-

white poinsettias look best
when surrounded by red,

reflections from polished silver
are most notable
in darkness.

dropped ornaments
that shatter live on
as recollected ones,

objects to decorate
our mind’s branches.

idyll

between the nothing-dom
and something-ness
the lumens lean,
twisting axes-
a helix
in ideal darkness.

visionary – for both
a twinkle of wonder and awareness
of position-
modest in winds and poses
that once in a blue moon
align with man’s sense of mystery
on a coiling staircase.

shameless, peel back
in brazen arcs your wings-
dormant no more.

eased and alarmed
fire and calm
dark matters-
lights palm
her secrets.

expression

glitter gold,
and watch reflections
patter on,
as specks surround
and attach beyond.

scintillate,
in flashing glows
the ions of your
aureate tongues.

move,
and flicker
until your crests
bestow a shade of flare-

and spread this frenzied
throe upon the night’s
affair.

Clarion

glisten-
shine so bright,
open up your heart
and write

your songs. They carry on
in spite
of rumbles, chatter,
hate and fright.

envision-
all the world
in cheer
with ringing tones
-crystal clear-

a clarion for all
to hear-

a star
a beacon
-listen.