#smittenbypoetrygame

LIVE

Melatonin sets in

Like doves returning to nest

God sets them in motion

Circadian migration to circular paths

Not a musical but a solar dance

Blue orange black pink blue orange black

The moon and the sun choreograph

But why must we give the dark so many hours of ours?

Once I properly encounter Him I’ll ask

Why the rhythm of rest isn’t given the chance

To rest on an open eyed note through the night, once or twice

Without submitting eyes to substantial sacrifice

n.a.

Mondays keep coming

Even when the darling buds reopen

Per Shakespeare’s sonnet

Doomsday headlines hot off the press

Overdue library books stacking up

Forget-me-nots get pulverized

I wonder why I wonder so much

When it all seems a waste

I could close my eyes in a deep sleep

Alas I always eventually wake

Still there’s a break in drifting dreams

Irradiate me

Fuchsia you

A touch too much

Got down pat the part of Heathcliff

Still I will not be your Catherine

Lying in wait of your kiss to awaken

Ardor is best not underestimated

How would you like to be scared stiff?

Eggs must crack to bake a cake

Alas the blue gas flame loses oxygen

My time is better misspent

Redress

Dug out that dress–you know the one

I wore when we met, all eyeleted sunflowers

Swore I looked approachably sweet

Yet had your heart racing uncontrollably

Je ne sais quoi to buck the quotidian

An enchanting chance encounter


If only you unearthed the woman beneath

Took a dip beyond the shallow end

Peered past the Sunday-in-bed appeal


So I slip it on for me now, a better fit

More oomph than you’d know what to do with

There is some kind of magic on Sundays
during this Spring month, when showers fall,
further turning the bronze statues green
and helping the newly planted seedlings grow.

A perfect day to cuddle with a library book
and hope the sky clears once more.

I wonder if what remains of Spring shall be
this way, I hope so. There is beauty in gray.
But as I watch the wind blow the clouds away
and the sun throw rainbows thanks to a suncatcher,
I decide that is high time, for a chocolate bite.

-Ely C. Winters.

loading