Delights

Delights of the night
have vanished from sight
and nothing I write
shall baffle their flight.

Delights of the day
are still far away
and nothing I say
shall hasten their play.

untitled/October 2019

though it be stale and laced full of holes,
give us this day our daily bread,
for the shops are all closed and bakers
are home, sleeping quite soundly in
questionless beds

though it be moldy and lacking in taste,
give us this day our daily bread,
for the gut must be basted with something
homemade, before we are blessed with
freewheeling feasts

Such Whims

Such whims you must expunge with every crumb
of heart at hand, for nothing but unrest
would prey upon the pride of those who slump
forth, called to be old outcasts, two abreast!
Remember days of mustard dust and nests
of grievous vultures, pecking ‘round your door?
To yell to hell with palms outstretched, compressed
by dappled fabulists whom you abhor,
is Thebes’ thistle—nothing less and nothing more.

:::come hover near:::

Three beeswax candles burn to brighten Hallow’s Eve.
Pocked faces sneer ‘neath greasepaint; they are dying to deceive!
The wind is whimpering, now wailing, down long lanes
and leaves of caramel and carmine flit at window panes.
May souls who have departed from this spinning sphere,
come hover near the hearths of humans, whom they once held dear.

dashing dinner

There once was a cowherd from Daegu,
who liked reams of red meat in his stew.
Said his wife one warm eve
as she darned his ripped sleeve,
“tonight’s feast ran off, mooing ‘screw you!’”

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This is an older poem of mine that I came across today.  My husband and I lived in Daegu, South Korea from 2012 to 2015.  Daegu is pronounced “tay-goo”.  The original didn’t include the anapest that is desired for the limerick form, so I am slowly working on putting it in there.  This version still needs some work.