When I face
These pancakes,
Eyes search
For ways to
Dream.
Sanctity in
Whipped topping,
Butter running off
In divergent rivers.
Swirling eddies
Feeding heat,
Slumber awaiting
Questing organs.
Your surprise at
What feeling
Hits you,
Quieted of the
Mechanical noise
Computers drive into
Your static skull…
Treasured darkness,
From the climes
Of bitterness
Wrought.
Sowed displeasure,
Stewed to the
Dawn’s
Great Reveal.
Truth of time,
What rains will come.
Planted to foster,
Drenched in dark
Soot.
Reigned in by the light,
Captured on film.
Drowned in the
Flowing reel,
Art a filament of
Its
Master.
A Thing Of Beauty
She is a thing of
Beauty,
Softened grains,
Pearl clamped
In a scaled shell.
Poet’s muse is
Her only.
Tightly wound
A glimmering thorn.
Envy’s follicles
Never escaping
Perfection.
Mirror drop of
Soft petal sheath,
In awe of
Grace as she is
This.
Sweet surrender
Of rains,
Heaven’s gaze adrift
And never in search
Of Envy.
Peeking out at serenity
Streaming in,
So delicate,
A rare particle,
As soft as a maiden’s gaze
On her lover.
Sweet, never too succulent,
Always closing in
On Beauty.
Writing, the Universe and whatever occurs to me
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A Diamond to Remember 