”Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, -and done a hundred things
Satiety help me I have inhabit
of this world. Extant upon its designs
to be more aimlessly fluttering at
the window, to shadow all the patterns
Once a sunny daffodil
Soon destined for the compost hill
POTUS "rattling sabers" once again,
He cannot wait to leave his mark!
He will lie to provoke war with Iran,
While Americans slumber in the dark
Casting light and haunting traces,
on their limpid eyes in shade,
Silhouetting solemn faces,
'neath tresses hung, in golden braids
A beautiful bee he was.
He lay for a day on my table, stillness
Personified. - eyes seemed alive, arms
Curled furily tight, perhaps as his will
Demise of poet
It is last day of poet
If he is forced to remain quiet
Do you feel alone?
It’s all I’ve ever known
There is a place in my mind
As hard as you look
Roomful of fragrance, smouldering perfume.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mixed jasmines, and sandlewood, swooning
On silk pillowed scent erotically changes