Festooned
Into a fluted garland of red
Posies
Ring around the Rosie
Pocketful of posies
All fall down
As a musical winds chime
And breeze across their petticoats of yellow
Sunflowers
Clap together in a gusto of wind
Breathless breezes
Blow and whistle
For an encore
Rosie bows
Under a grotto of petalled rays

A seat of railway ties step
Up to a drooling dogs dwelling
Carpeted
With a welcoming mat of wild strawberries
The large black bear figure sleeps

Under

The watchful eye of an ever expanding wall of pale blue
Morning Glories
Which patterns her pen with a heavenly hue of olive green
Vine
Which weaves its dewy web
Into the nomadic shadow of a moonlit laced fence
Linked
To the outside world
The slothful Newfoundlander stretches its webbed paws
Into a nodding world of nocturnal dreams

Next to the yellow-bricked house

Ferns
Feather the foundation of the north wall
Fronds
Cascade into the sleepy showers of crested green arches
Pink Violets snuggle under their virginal touch
Arched
Under a tilted lilt of dropping dripping dew
Asleep
Hostas
Host the house
Collecting
Under their open palm
As Impatient plants hang around
Dolefully for drops of doling dew

Shades of the day
Become the blinds of the night
Drawn into the darkness of dusk
The flowers rest
In a lyrical spray of halcyon mist
Sprinkled
Showered
In its opalescent vapor of lustrous light
Pellucid beads crystallize into gems of cloudless dew
Linked with luminance
Forming
Into droplets of permeable pearls
Strung together into strands of silver
Clasping
Onto powdery petals of saturn light
Sailing onto a verdant pond of silken green
Transforming into an idle chain of idyllic illumination
Luminous beads strand into a languid bay of periodicity
Trickling
Falling
Slowly
And haltingly
Into a Halcyon pool of languorous moonlight
Vaporized
Into a nectarous mist of flirtatious fragrance

Flowers

Lilt and languish
Into the mist of the morning
Massaged into the blue of the night
Desiccated dry with a breathtaking breeze
Touched
With sensuality
A stirring breeze strokes its moist petals into a floret of passion
Moist with aromatic sweetness
The sultry flower twists and turns into licentious pleasure
Massaged into madness
The euphoric breeze continues to mount the frenzied flower
Into a rhythmic state of ejaculated exhaustion
Collapsing
Into the heat of the night
Their petals droop
Onto an ambrosial bed of dampness
Were they rest under a landscape of luminance
Asleep
Under the halcyon lull of a starry sky
Bedded down
To the nocturnal sounds of the sultry

Night

Awakens to the chirping of crickets
Who tune their wings to an orchestrated opus
Hoping onto its padded podium
The portly bullfrog would entertain his nocturnal abode
With a rendition of orotund croaks
And with a splash of splendor
Would disappear
Into the octaves of the night

A dark object

Overlooks this polyphonic group
In a masquerade of darkness
It hunches into a nest of chameleon branches
Scouting
The horizon like a black raven
It observes
Through its binocular mask
Eyes
Light up
Like two beaded beacons
Fixed light
Searching for prey
Floating eyes
That row on a sea of darkness
Navigating the landscape with precision
It shimmies down its wooden halyard
Scurrying
Across a wavering wave of silver grass
It boards a heap of trifling trash
Scavenging
Into a cargo of treasure
Dick Turpin of the night
Finding its booty
It scampers and scurries into a mass of maples
Quickly
Before
Scylla scuppers his supper
Camouflaged
Under a canvas of flagging leaves
It blesses it’s boodle with its ceremonial cleansing
Sitting
In its vigilant platform it devours its supper

In silence

Indifferent
To the passionate heat of the night
An insatiable seamy hermit of solipsism
Sucks up to its Host
Consuming its hospitality
It devours the host
To survive the day
In retreat
It slinks off
In a silky slime of slick silver
It will coil into a corporeal shell of sordid dirt
Safe in its soporific shell
It lives inside a benighted wall of sophistry
Isolated from the world
We’re its vulnerability is protected
Under a veneer of compost

Alone

It lives
With darkness
As it’s only companion

Flicking lights
Flex the night
With a spark
And a flash
Sprites
Lost
In an apparition of hallucination
Disappearing
Loons
In a fathom of vapor

Searching

Patrolling the garden
In its black and white uniform
Were it leaves
A definitive trail
That no one wishes to follow
Exiting the garden
To leaden whispers
This obscure phantom of the night
Leaves in an air of malodor
Only the threatening buzz
Of a dissipated mosquito
Dare follow the phantom of the night

A divisible wind

Swept into the heart of darkness
Overcome
With the anabatic anthem of youth
The sounds of silence
Swelled
Into the sweltering heat of the night

Uprising

Sweet scents surface the waves
On a blood-red band of silver stars
It fanned
In a fanfare
Of descending drafts
In a downwind
Its draconian coldness
Joined
A black mass of oppressed air
Caught
In an antinomy of cross currents
It struggled
Under its emancipated chain of incubated pressure
The inchoate draft subverted the blackness into submission

Divided

Dragging
And resisting
The draft would assimilate and dispense
Into a formation of jellied clouds of menacing gray
Hovering
Into a hazardous haze
It vaporized the searing landscape
From its baptism of fire
It cleansed the dank dwellings with its mist of vapor

Downcast

The drifting draft dispatched into the ethereal landscape of dissolution
Leaving
The sounds of silence
To swell into the darkness of the night

With the uprising
Of sweet scented music
Subverting the heat
A cool wave of bands surf the air
With the anabatic anthem of youth

Voices

Blowing in the wind
A trumpet
Reawakens into the somnolent sky
A distant echo
Weeps across a hushed mist
A stranger on a shore
It saunters towards the soundless sea of song

Distant

Voices
Tinged with the heart of darkness
Residual kinship
Overflowed
Into hops of resin
Were memories are grilled
On a barbeque of ashes
Rekindled
Thoughts spark from the embers of time
Were experiences would alight
With the flames of anger
Mortality was tinged with sadness
As the youth were engulfed into a waxen ball of fire
Falling
Like Icarus
Into a seabed of tropical death

Lost

Youth
Skimmed and summoned
To the nations hearth
Simmering
And stewing
In a sizzling skillet of sine qua non
Served
And sent away to a distant land
A living lottery
Selected
Singed
Scorched
And torched
Into an inferno of fire
Now
Charred
And cremated
Into a baptism of fire
To be cradled
Into a crematorium bag
Zip-coded
Onto the cranes of Ibycus
To lie
In state
Under a flagging shroud of honor
Lost
In Daedlus mist

Crying

Cranes would take up
The poets laureate
Reviewing
Their passage with poetic justice
Inked in red
Blotted in death
A Fountainhead of idealism
Capped
With the death of youth
Leaving
The antiquity of time
To rewrite their epitaph
On a cold granite of blackness

Celluloid pages

Overlay the music of yesterday
Tonight
Bulbous bursts of laughter erupt
Across the waken sky
Once again
Aquarian voices sing their apocalyptic anthology
Of rock and roll

Music

Would recall
A summer place
Were they would once sit on the deck of a distant bay
And joke about their hot fun
In the summer time
On a Georgian bay

Smoke
Billowed into their flowering clouds
Mushroomed
Powdered
Ash smoldered onto the ember of the cinerary night
Music faded
Into a tie-dye sky
While their wood stock whittled
Into a charcoal grave of elusive memories
Rocked into sleep
Voices harmonized
Into a cappella of farewells
Droned
Into the Cicadas call

Silence

Crawled under its miasmic moonlight
Leaving
Sultry shadows
To spell out the nights humidity

Fading

In the dusk
The night brushes away the heat
As it sweeps the silence into the dawdling dawn

Lost

In its Elysian elegy
It weeps across a hushed mist
Like a stranger
On a distant shore
It saunters across soundless waves

Leaving

Its haunting call
To trumpet across a somnolent sky
Lost
In its ethereal haze
Drifting into a draconian

Silence

Crept upon the darkness
Like shadows stretching out the night
The yellow-bricked house stands in a river of moonlight

Alone

In the past
A silhouette of time
Lulled into the present
Burnished
In moonlight
It filters its insomniac light
Onto the darkling objects
That sleeps
Under an overlay of sleepless shadows

A family

Illuminated
Under an inlay of luminous light
Stirring
And shifting
Under an illusion of dawns darkness
Were shedding shadows
Fade
Like the Cicada
Oblivious to the world

Outside

Like an ephemeral poacher
I come to light
As I incarnate my spirit
Into the sanctum of their lives

Alone

I stand in their past
In my attempt to atone

The future

I reflect
As I observe the past
Sitting
Under the strong burl branch
Of a sagacious white oak
Arched into its narwhal bole
Camouflaged
Under a canopy of silver green leaves
My eyes adjust
To the leaden light
As they follow the pathway
To the yellow-bricked house

Stopping

At the white porch
A soft haven of blue bathes it with moonlight
Under
Its band shell of stars
The white porch stirs under a stellar of starlight

The White Porch

Is festooned with crayola
Colors flute the white railings for its birthday celebration
The white porch