Pink clouds with feint zigzag veins
craft a stunning desert maid’s
muse in mirror swivel guise
as she pondered in set pose
how welkin palettes loiter
when a tense eerie inkling
sighs “I’m this windblown notion
Rather than talking to walls -
I talk to the universe
Which talks back.
The Milky Way hails -
The stars wink endlessly -
The planets - they enchant -
And if my ears are sharp -
I might hear steadfastly
The drum of time
In sync with my heart -
The crickets and the owls
As one rhyme.
Backdrop dangling its
allotted allure relish
the delightful spots
Fountain sprinkles douse raucous children, in sizzling summer townscape,
steam billows from mosaic pavement, slabs on foot of sweat induced clouds,
yet mid season picturesque gust, whirl hues an august autumn nod
I arrived to you as a harbor battered by its own waves,
salt‑scored, muttering to gulls that never answered.
In your quiet courtyard my storms fell silent—
we planted lemons in the clay and their small roots
took hold the way forgiveness does: unseen, unhurried.
I walked the corridors of myself, lantern lifted,
so the dark could witness me no different
than the noon‑bright street.
Each shadow I carried bent to its knees,
learning the discipline of light.
I saw the old currents of impulse go quiet,
not hushed by force but eased by vigilance.
Don’t raise the white flag
when sly boots ennui sneaks in
stoic mould is key
life is that intriguing quest
a conjugated footpath
Lawyer's brief.... ..open and shut case!
Monumental error… demolition of historic pillar
Rainy day fund … just dried up
Staging concerts …. a concerted effort required
As I stare at the moon, the stars,
Orion, Saturn, Venus, Mars,
or Jupiter, my furry cur
peers straight ahead for things that stir
between those weeds, behind that tree,
where moonlight helps his eyes to see.
As I gaze at the lunar face,
that mutt of mine sees much to chase.
“Look at the moon. Look up! Look up!”
I tell my little, furry pup.
His ears perk up, his eyes fixate
on some small creature near the gate.
My finger points straight toward the moon,
but he lives to a different tune—
a tune not astronomical,