Laura Gail Sweeney

Flickering, glistening sounds of night
Your warm hand keeps mine protected from the frost
Stars twinkle above like the warmth of your heart
Our hearts have a view of the snow covered hillside
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Silvery white snow
Contrasts with his eyes so brown
Sweetness who climbs mountains
Who opens my heart with a thought
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The intangibleness of feelings that amaze me
When I dive into those gleeful, cloudy skies
In my dreams in which I see illusory, mountainous greens
This very special day, unlike the rest, I've confessed
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Sometimes it feels like there's no place for philosophers
And poets in this world. They're engaged in work that
Helps support their true vocations. Maybe they do
Work beneath their horizons as a means of not contaminating
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Fruitful delights of Golden Dawn arise,
Whereby solstice smiles upon a new day,
Cliffs of Moher, where daisies do fantasize
Of one's yesteryear reigning in the hay.
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O'Shea knows where wanderers go,
Where water flows upon the coast of Moher,
Along hillsides with sullen pathways.
Not forgotten are those stone walls
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My poetry is not as fine as Sestina's
Hers consists of memorable terms
And is completely down to astounding delight
Whereas mine rests in coarse cliche' lines
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Uncontrolled dreams reveal one's yearning
For experiences unknown
Such nightly flights supply learning
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Phantoms play this Halloween
They stray into the forest
Alongside the Fairy Queen
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Let us again embrace nature's Leap Year!
Precious time for women to express joy!
Dancing with Bacchus, no reason to fear
An immense dance in which all are deployed
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You find beauty in what life brings
Those nuggets, scraps, and other things
Walnuts rest on the floor
Un-devoured, saved once more
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