Reflections on an Image #2

“Toking With Friends on a Balmy Evening”

This chair, to rest on,

Where fountain bubbles,

Provides a place

To soothe our troubles. 

We are weary.

The day was long.

Let’s shed our shoes;

Pull out the bong. 

Harvest buds

From yonder bush.

Though home grown,

It’s bubba kush! 

Friends will join us.

Around we’ll sit,

Circled up, 

While we get lit.

We’ll wile this evening away,

But tomorrow is another day,

But tomorrow is another day.

Reflections on an Image #1

“A Summer’s Idyll”

A lonely chair awaits

By a fountain splashing

For a reader to arrive

With some children laughing.

That scarlet Acer 

Frames this place

Where life assumes

A slower pace.

He sits reading in the sun 

Basking like a lizard,

While the children swirl about

Like snowflakes in a blizzard.

The thrum of distant mowers 

Punctuate the day

And saturates the air

With scents of fresh cut hay.

It’s all a balm for racing thoughts 

But shadows slowly lengthen;

Surliness replaces joy

In spite of every effort taken

And thus, this day, 

Its courses run,

Becomes an idyll;

A dream of fun.

#NaPoWriMo Challenge

“Syd7t5” posted a #napowrimo challenge to take a line from someone else’s poem and take it in a whole new direction.  Here is my contribution to the literary universe…

“Stopped by Police on a Summer Evening”

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And all this struggle to stay awake 

Is quite enough to make me weep.

How much coffee will it take 

To give this drowsiness a shake.

Why’d I have to have that beer!

I just can’t give myself a break.

I’ve been driving for a year!

Why’s there not a bathroom near!

Damn! I really have to go.

But now I’ve something else to fear.

Whose lights those are I think I know,

God, I wonder what I’ll blow,

God, I wonder what I’ll blow.

Resurrection in Tanka

After much too long,

Walking through that darkened door

Finding no sparkle

In his once so vibrant eyes

Flooded with regret and shame


Sitting at bedside

As he writhed in clear distress

A calming hand clasp

And an old familiar voice

Provided him an anchor


As the stories flow

Telling him what he once told

Fire rekindles

A spark returns to gray orbs

Picking up forgotten tales

Orbital Oasis

Earth, my sympathies.

I also feel the strainings,

Frictions and fissures,

Relentless tidal forces,

Of distant, unseen actors.


I to, feel the heat

Of all that wretched tension

Rising in my core.


Sometimes I, like you,

Can not contain the pressure

And can find myself,

In burning rings of fire,

Suffering mass eruptions.


Yet, though we may quake

Along our many fault lines,

We remain intact!


When I feel that pull

And all that building pressure

I can still find peace,

A modicum of solace,

In all your fractured beauty,

My planetary mother.

Foxfires’ Promise

 This is not damnation’s omen

Writ in fire ‘cross the sky

No invitation to perdition

No harbinger we all shall die.

Rather Gaia’s verdant curtain 

Holding back the dragon’s breath

The only thing that’s truly certain

To save us all from horrid death.

So when you see the sky aglow

Do not fear the end is nigh

Revel, rather, in the show;

Auroral fire from on high.