Jonathan ROBIN Poems

Body language loud
translates inner silences
unique within crowd.
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Curiosity:
without which no cat could see
true way clear to be.
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'By what I’ve writ still may world's will be lit! '
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My first, central element particular,
my second's around wherever you are,
third; commonest ORDINARY article far,
whole: ELEVEN cm consequential cigar,
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Light reflecting leaves
prepare fair sakura rain,
spring reigns, winter grieves
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I never sold a share that soared
to set a record high,
and then to tell of error bored
my friends with simp’ring sigh,
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Fog hangs heavy in London air,
brokers rest but for a prayer;
eyes aghast, souls in despair,
seeking business everywhere.
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I do not know why
nor how or where, what or when,
wonder who am I?
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Breeze bright fans Spring glade
six legs tickle, tendrils' touch
test white hand ring laid.
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Changing climate melts
both calved bergs and carved scoops
summer cavorting.
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