Fairyland Haiku

 

Mists swirl about dancing

in the trees, through the forest

Creates a fairyland

Sunshine On My Table

Sunshine on my table

Plucked from my wild yard of weeds

To brighten my table, my day

Boxes to Burn

Boxes to burn

Time to remember

Slow, simple

Move      ment

Wordle #16 - White House of Hell

White House of Hell

Rusty prophets swept in last month

Foaming spittle, anticipation of the hunt

Morning rose tender with promise

And fate blew its seductive kiss

Soon the walk of talk stumbled and fell

Sun set on the white house of hell

Cement buckled and the veil shred

Torments of greed’s lusty bed

Take notes clearly dear people

Of the crawling scars in yonder steeple

The Voices Prattle - Wordle#15

The voices prattle on ceaselessly and senselessly,

regardless of scenery, blistered cement or mountain mists.

Replacing bumpin’ Chevy’s with a crickets’ ratchet or

intoxicated screams with wilderness howls did little

to silence the jangle of the juried sentence.

The image of dedicated creator, immersed in serenity

splinters into proclaimed reality of sameness.

“Wherever you are…” rattles the clichéd voice,

proving its limited dimensions. But, “If it’s not broken…”!

Success of past destruction breeds repetitive mimicry.

Ambitions vision stutters on, sprouts hardy greenery

resistant to the blathering of fear-mongering flatulence.

This delicious weed pierces the fortress of holy babble and

emerges, flowering victorious, nutritious, and fruitful.