The grieving, prodigal moon
is roaring, rushing through the
night light-
ing candles trying
to find treasure hidden
by the sun
longing to learn the
secrets of heat and fire
Tent Dwellers
mesh tents
hang
cemented in forks
of a choke cherry
their prevalence a
sign of springs arrival
the morass of squirming
life inside emerges like
reporters spilling from
a courtroom
they amble
down
a
silken
gangway
in a caterpillar kind
of follow-the-leader
to search for tasty leaves,
aquiver as bird shadows
cover them
and I glibly pass by with
no sonder
(posted in response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle # 61)
Peace Remains
I traced secrets on
the shores of your heart
words of hope, of fear
and broken dreams are
scratched into the sandy
beaches
I wait for foaming
swells of love
to erase the pain
each
one
swept away
until all
that remains
is
peace
shame – haiku
tiny brown wren sings
a song of unbounded joy
shames the cawing crow
Times Change
there’s
nothing
like it now
no eskimo
walrus or guitar man who can pen like
Zimmy did in those hazy days of youth
the ships have sailed
come on in
nothing’s
new
A Tune on the Moon in June
There once was a bell on the moon
Whose task was to ring once in June
He stumbled on rocks
That were stuck to his socks
And instead played a symphonic tune
wistful – a haiku
wistful moon above
reaches for me with longing
distance is our moat
Beemahal
Bumbles whirring, blurring,
strirring look for nectar
spewing blossoms
Fill up sackles strapped
to legs
furry with delightful
pollen
Take to flighty heights of
splendor
to the queenie waiting
for them
in the cells of Beemahal
dreaming dove does not
mourn the hiding stars or
cry for the shy moon
Quest
searching, reaching in
false quests for things
that are not
real missing what lies
on the other side
of the glass
lured
by shiny promises
dangling
just
out
of
grasp
rhymeswithbug 