Turn the lock
take a short walk
pluck a blue plastic package
from the lawn.
Blue pink orange pastels
washing across the horizon.
an avian megachoir full voiced
in stereo, quadraphonic
centiphonic sound.
No need to rush.
Mr. Coffee’s still ciphering
his caffeinated solution.
Linger a moment to audition
the morning senses giver’s
daybreak concerto.
Linger a moment:
Taste the fresh morning air.
(April, 2007)
Your natural musicality comes through even without the rhythm and rhyme I so enjoy. GW62
Music of the morning eloquently expressed. Lovely, Robert. As always, Sandra
It's delightful to have something personal from you. From perhaps a daily event. I don't doubt the brilliant spectrum of compositional matter that was dancing around in your head - at the time, Robert. sjg
Can almost taste it, here in Manhattan, on yir words by themselves...Solid Penning, Robert. F.j.R.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful...........