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.

My Last Dance With Chaos

My Last Dance With Chaos

Swingin’ my chubs from a cement slab as cars, trucks, buses, and trains zoom

The ole’ alma mater has fresh new faces blended with

Welcome and well wishes amidst horn blasts and gas fumes

On a rolling blue Lake Michigan backdrop

old familiar smiles offering

Crowds of nervous parents in new student orientation—kids loosed in the big city

Life worn characters knock back brown paper sacks while

Privileged poodles and retrievers prance by attached elegantly

To Cadillac strollers steered by sleek plastic facades

View replaced with stone and glass stretching through the haze

To touch wispy skies instead of misty mountain tops tinged in blue.

My last dance with chaos.

The Twist of Forged Fate - Wordle #14

The Twist of Forged Fate

Chance that the journey is but a parting of the curtains, be they white ruffled chintz or thick brown velvet. Illumination floods, transported on the rush of winds. The revealed is rendered momentarily blind yet, marvels as clouds caress her skin and souls’ scent tickles. The whir of promise shatters the silence of fear. She blinks, and the reprehensible is scattered, splintered; gilded flakes fall to the ground, swallowed by daylilies and dogwood petals. She stands majestic in the twist of forged fate.

The Void Is All An Illusion - Wordle 13

The Void Is All An Illusion

Surrounded by lush emerald, jade, forest, and mint;

auburn, gold, and russet jostles within to herald

the celestial autumnal arrival. Ivy wraps the balcony

in a rhythmic pantomime with mountain breezes.

There’s a flap in that breeze. Once ominous, now joyous.

For the bones realize the void is all an illusion.