hour 16… Listen
the wind caresses the leaves, the petals, my hair
it is the conductor of all my favioute songs,
in harmonys with ocean, thunder, lightening
ii have no need for a rdio or a tv
i have nature to sing for me.
Harmony
She glows silver in the sky tonite asking for a song
could be a howl could be cry
doesn’t matter what or why
im singing down here
harmony won’t wait too long
I Thought I Touched You Today
(for hour 16—from the “touch” prompt for Onweald)
I Thought I Touched You Today
(by the character Nigel Taiman)
A kind touch breezing by my hand
Reminded me of you today
A soft voice whisp’ring a word of kindness
Sounded like something you’d say
The moment caught me off my guard
When I turned to see your face
Disappointment filled me so fully
When I saw emptiness in your place
That I excused myself from society
How can you haunt my brain
When you wore immortality as perfectly
As you wore Arcana’s good name
The swing where you once teased me
With noxious words of battle and war
Moves heavy with dead autumn leaves
Or memory of your movement as we’d spar
The tree where I handed you music papers
Withers in despair of your absence
There’s not a creature in Onweald
That doesn’t crave your presence
Every person, beast, every dying bloom
Seeks you in the fingers of the wind
And each breeze that lifts your scent
Fools me to thinking I’ll see you again
Thick Thighs Save Lives
Thick thighs save lives
So I have heard it said
Never before have my mighty Thors
Been so complimented
I have hidden them deep
Under denim and cloth
Loving the darkness
Much more than a moth
Not for fear of their look
But from wandering hands
Encased in thread and fiber
Safe from any mans
Smell the Flowers of the Past
I remember the lilacs.
The sweet smell and the color of the light purple.
It reminds me of old times at my house.
Where we played on the grass and stayed out late.
Lilacs remind me of simple times before the adult world hit us.
A passing Touch
I felt her skin in me like a warm flowing soft water
Palms catching vibes to the grooves of a hill
It’s four am
It’s a dawn to raw am
And I feel
the whispers of the breeze behind my ears
O’ Holy Waters
Freshly and clean.
The fishes are swimming to bayside.
Where’s the fisherman?
When its Sunday service, and
And a fish fry.
Mommas kitchen’s,
Is arosey smelling good up in here.
No part from,
Foster love.
Minute by minutes, and
Hour by hours.
They stand ushering.
Raising funds for the feast Mercado Hall.
This Saturday pastor luncheon or we are.
Hoping for a better day to come.
Almighty God.
The curtain shuts, and only a few people are still here.
Who honor.
Him.
with,
welcomes.
Your.
chances,
will come.
Only with surprises.
You’ll see,
Just how good.
He’s,
been to us.
Poem 16: A Tribute to Lewis Carroll “The Duck and the Dog”
Poem 16: A Tribute to Lewis Carroll
The duck, David, not Donald
Spoke perfect English
And never quacked
But tact, he lacked
He did not like Durwood, the bowler-hatted dog
He seemed so pretentious
With his country gentleman act
And plethora of silly facts
“You should appreciate me,” the dog said.
“I am of good stock.
And with me, good friends you’ll make,
with a little give and take.”
“You are simply a snob,” said the duck.
“You do not belong with us.
You act so superior
When you are essentially inferior.”
“Your problem is obvious,” Durwood replied.
“This language you speak.
Quacking is how you should talk.
You knew it before you could walk.”
“I am advanced,” said the duck.
“A new generation and breed.
Taking us beyond the ponds
Forming new and aristocratic bonds.”
The dog laughed, stepping forward with his cane,
gently correcting his ascot.
“There are no aristocrats here except me.
And I certainly won’t ask you to tea.”
“And I will not have you over for millet and smartweed,” answered David.
“A fine treat, I must say.
Ferdinand Fox and Walter Weasel are coming today,
and I will put on a fine display.”
“What!” exclaimed the humored dog. “Are you serious?
Don’t you know why they have accepted your invitation?
They want YOU for supper.
You are indeed in a scupper!”
“Ha ha. You are wrong stupid man.
Bobby the Bobcat will be my guest too.
And I don’t like to share my grains.
My other guests will be roasted, before the evening rains.”
Hour 16: Touch
A touch is a powerful thing
It can express so much more
Than just the presence
One’s state of being.
A touch can exude warmth
For comforting weary hearts
Or it can be cold
A sign of displeasure (or hypothermia!)
A touch can help you
Paint a completely different picture
Or just fill in the details
Of an already existing one
A touch comes with its own emotions
And lets one see
What’s below the surface
Where sight doesn’t work at all
A touch is a powerful thing indeed
Being able to convey
So much more of the world around than
Just a part of it that we actually see.
Hour 16-Cat in the Window
Cat is spoiling my ocean-view
He likes the open window
To watch the birds, the waves, the palms
It is safe behind the window-screen
Tucked behind the curtains
Away from barking dogs
And the crows that squeal warnings
Whenever he is outside
He can watch the neighbors and not cower
Here he is the master
His domain is small, fascinating
He is vigilant
Ready
He blocks my ocean-view
But I get to watch him
His head moving side to side
to invisible sounds
Sniffing the air of other people’s dinners
Feeling the ocean air caress his whiskers
Helping me write a poem