a midsummer poem


stirred like a picked mushroom
in a primordial soup
I in a dance with day and trees
find no way to tell you
why motion is so important

waves are men on the run
a dessert full of scorpions
there are recipes for making bombs
and swift butterflies
that only live for a few days

remedies are for the naked
routines are for the sleeping
one can always be more
it's in the nature of day's order
in the beingness of it all

ancient vernal equinox
with fairy dreams and pixies
rolling with laughter
it is just a dream we lost
nothing more




Poetry by Bob
Read 510 times
Written on 2017-06-24 at 00:52

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shells
I loved this, it lilts and trips along beautifully. Brilliant final stanza.
2017-06-24


Mick Bean
Very good indeed
2017-06-24


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo Bob.
Ken
2017-06-24