Behind this stony mask I see
a man of worth resides in sin.
I think I hear a silent plea
behind this stony mask I see
and now it falls in front of me
so that forgiveness can begin.
Behind this stony mask I see
a man of worth resides in sin.
—————
This is my first time trying Triolet form – I think that this one is a little rough around the edges.
two kindly faces
tote potent anesthesia
drifting off to sleep
——————–
Yesterday I had surgey to correct an imbalance in my eye muscles; it was my first time experiencing general anesthesia.
Abbot
Owens owns a
teeny tan tame rabbit;
how pleasant to have an ally
so nigh!
——————–
Try and say the first three lines five times fast! 😉 I come out with “teeny tam tame” or “teeny tan tane” almost every time.
37 strings
2 hands
Loneliness slips through these faded floorboards.
I hope that it never comes back.
Somehow your Mother Maybelle voice seeps into the
room and then into my skin.
You sing an old tune – one that is close to your
heart and one that you tried to teach me many
times but that I never quite learned.
Perhaps I shall plant roses and lilies come springtime.
Would you like that?
The leaves are falling quickly now
in hues of royal gold
and as I dream beneath this bough
my naked nose turns cold.
Last night I dreamt the dangling from the
Manhattan Bridge dream – I was Bill De Blasio
What kind of dream did you dream?
Red and white gingham quivers in the twilight
breeze as two tired legs mosey beside surly steel.
We are surrounded by this rosy sky
and those noble rolling green hills.
This valley is a paradise to me,
but to you – a provincial prison.
You shiver – even though we are now shrouded
under ginger hued mantles – because you
accidentally abandoned your shawl on that wobbly
peg in your haste to catch the 6 o’clock train.
It’s not coming, is it?
navy
fabric naps near
platinum blond wavy
hair; how those cold carob eyes spear
my cheer
This morning close to six past eight
I placed a bagel on my plate,
then opened up my Facebook page
to see what news was all the rage.
Kate Leary had a baby boy;
she barely can contain her joy.
The selfie squad was here of course;
that gal by Ann looks like a horse!
My social justice friend is back;
for starting fights he has a knack.
It seems that Susie’s Grandma died.
I read her post and nearly cried.
Joe’s breakfast bowl looks so delish,
I wonder if that’s meat or fish?
Naomi’s pics are always great;
that’s all she posts at any rate.
Last night Sebastian got quite drunk
in his own words, drunk as a skunk.
Tom’s sister did a 5K run;
I gather it was lots of fun.
Jill’s birthday party is tonight
the theme this year is Rainbow Bright.
I comb my fingers through my hair
and try to think of things to share.
But on this windy autumn day
I just don’t have that much to say.
————————————————-
*edited after initial posting
vermilion cloth brushes snow gently
the wilted arm of a monk reaches
down to greet an old friend who is
curled up under a white oak wheezing
through a toothless mouth
her once golden paw feebly bats at
flowing garments begging for the
heated floors of nearby rooms
these allies have spent many winters
together in this sacred place
when spring comes both will be gone
sundry folly 