Harvest

the ripened sun is gently falling
harvested by even’s calling
to set his golden leaves abroad
and thus secure the old accords
that though the dark through night may reign
come dawning’s spring light flowers again.

Awaken

awaken Sunday, there are still bells
there are still bees to labour sell
and soon the morning sun will rise
to warm the eager butterflies

awaken Sunday, beyond your peels
my restless mind will seek to yield
its cares into the blackbird’s call
and lose itself as petals fall

awaken Sunday, where hides the rest
the promise of contentment blessed
it’s hidden not, lest one be blind
it speaks its calm upon the wind.

The Wall

time is tangible
my fingers drawn to each stone
to caress the years
water and long dead footsteps
have threaded through the marble

Le Colibri

Passion is a humming bird
its heart quick to bursting
and wings by necessity
beating a rhythm
that cannot be measured
nor captured by the mind

Lethe

Rejoice in the day,
the sun, it comes but once
and we must that moment hold.
For Oblivion’s night
is forever and dark
and her waters ebb eternally cold.

another dawn

from cliffs of concrete
echo the songs of starlings
I can but listen
and wonder at this hymnal,
exhalted prayers of nature

Note Olfactory

lavender hangs upon the breeze
the scent of drawers
and department stores
stirring long dead memories.

Distractions

talk not to me of greater things
but rather how the starling sings
I do not deal today in thought’s abstractions
I’m more enchanted by a leaf
than any credo or belief
such lofty ideals are just distractions

The Pomegranate Promise

that she by chance ate Hades fruit
summer has it’s ending nigh
the forest birds can sense the blue
will change to silvered skies
and those flowers which spiced the land
will soon be black decay
Demeter’s grief is soon at hand
her loved one must away
and as she weeps for August’s end
her tears are godly offerings
which promise that the season’s change
and Persephone will herald Spring

Impossible

you said I was impossible
I fail to see just how
nor am I incorrigible
so to that I cannot bow
which you may find dispicable
though I think not you see
as rather I’m improbable
In all poss-ibil-ity