Rhyme And Reason, vol 1 | Page 3

SUSPENSE
An air of suspense sweeps over me?A wonder only seen in dreams?A great rush of heavenly fidelity?and my spirit dances among moonbeams
High over valleys?my joy rallies?I wish and long to dally?alas dreams are like snow?fade when it's time to go
But this joy I'll evermore recall?when among the clouds I stand tall?as my heart leaps, among hilly peaks?I'll cherish deep and recall the trip
An air of suspense sweeps over me?A wonder only seen in dreams?A great rush of heavenly fidelity?and my spirit dances among moonbeams?8>)
Consolation for a Nightingale
For though it seems the horizon wide?was swallowed by the ink of night?Hope still resides by your side?Strength to resume sparks alight?8>)
Happiness when it Comes
Happiness isn't an all time high?But when it comes it does not lie?as much as you can without frowning?and letting go without drowning?Not the mystery tucked in a box?or a steeple chase marked by clocks?Contentment and an unruffled heart?A gift from Life, an acquired art!?8>)
Poet at Play
sparks and thoughts they do combine?thy brief verses grant it clime?the poetic deed shall be incomplete?should verse denied of rhyme replete?at rest in this forest I do beseech?a pause then to Parnassus reach !
symmetry of rhyme addiction?weaves and spins bear fruition?past concepts and articulations?through the truth and truisms?thus the quest of poetic frenzy?by far loftier than mere fancy?8>)
DOM THE GOOF
Footsteps, they clatter?as I looked to the mirror?is it for the better??I'm a habitual worrier
Your eyes reached for me?but I was ever unsure?did I transgress decency?of this new culture?
It was not what it seemed?this gaze of avid urgency?A glass up to its brim?I carried on nonchalantly
The waiter a while lingered?thought he a catastrophe?a full glass to him mattered?another spill casualty?
I delicately sipped?the outskirts of the rim?thus in one sip I nipped?the bungle at the brim?8>)
A WORD ON WORDS-revised 2002
Words to proselitize?Words to hail?Words to define?Words to douse silence?Words to rouse?Speech is a double edged gift?In stroke , ails and heals.
Words to state plainly?Words to choke gasps of worries?Words to accompany deeds?Words to line void of ignorance?Words to fill gaps of craving?Language is a double edged gift?In a swoop , blights and blesses.?8>)
A SMILING CONUNDRUM
A simple act of smiling carries abundant nuances. Its appearance unfolds subtleties in spells so brief that attention has to acquire suppleness and clairvoyance in order to trace its intention. An emotional armour, an ignorant smirk, a habitual display, a crack of dismay. It serves as an olive branch, a link of mutuality, a spirit booster, a disarming tool. It wriggles so mildly into the domain that it catches us off-guard in an awkward pose in the midst of some complication, a teaser's toy, a perplexing foil, a facial perk up. It has beguiled hearts for generations, a warm gesture of agreement , nonchalant bravado, unperturbed defiance, a universal affirmation of pleasure. 8>)
BETWEEN FASTING AND FEASTING
Inspiration alternates between fasting and feasting. Let it cascade from funnels of thoughts. Improvise and let fancies weave as much and as often as they please. There is unity despite this mish-mesh . Inspiration gushes more than our fill can contain. It flows till each kernel is milked of its essence, then recedes to miserly trickling.
It hibernates as themes ossify, mummified in rumination's chrysalis. Charges to the fore of consciousness and floats to the spout of the fount when ripeness blooms. 8>)
ON PARTING
I had long anticipated this parting. I had wept in anticipation of this. Intense pain coiled around refusal and vexation, caused by anger that it should pass so soon. To heave our chests with sobs, wail ourselves hoarse, sap breath of air are futile. Part we must.
I cannot offer tears now. I had wept in anticipation of this. Senses stay with me as I go about matter-of-factly. But sorrow is real. Whoever who has emotions and compassion will surely feel the tight knot on heartstrings in times of grief. Part we must.
Mourning lasts not forever. Speak not of regret. Seek joys shared. Extricate the most comely or comical picture of the departed from recesses of recall or from the picture archive.
Caress those treasured tokens. Care for them well. Mortality had usurped and carried them across the walls while those living, are moored here still. 8>)
AFTER THE HURT
We wince, grimace, we deny, we blush, we withdraw, we stumble, grapple for a hold then surge wildly with our hurt, to our sanctuary, for security, for support, for sympathy which we so badly lack. Our egos soothed, our pride mended, our resolve restored, our courage renewed. We make our way out of the zone of our sanctuary to the swirl of life, kingdom of actuality, the playfield of fortune, the polarity of cause and effect. We stand our ground, stake our claim, carve our indentations upon eternity. 8>)
AT THE DOCKS
Pungence of the coast enter the nostrils before sight glimpses the first outlines of the docks. As we gaze