Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me-
That is my dream!
The leaves are blowing away
Up, up, and away they go.
Swish, swoosh, they go.
Like a dancing ballerina
Up, up and away they go
Way up , in the sky.
The trees standing there,
Their branches all bare.
The wind whistling throughout empty branches,
O'DRISCOLL drove with a song
The wild duck and the drake
From the tall and the tufted reeds
Of the drear Hart Lake.
And he saw how the reeds grew dark
At the coming of night-tide,
And dreamed of the long dim hair
Of Bridget his bride.
He heard while he sang and dreamed
A piper piping away,
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
I stand alone in this wide empty space,
in front of an audience of many.
Forming my wistful partner in an abrazo
What an entity he is; a reflection of my inner soul!
With the rhythmic staccatos coming from the bandoneón,
and the abrupt stabs of the double bass,
we moved around the floor, dancing around like prowling lions
with the right amalgamation of fierceness and tasteful sensuality.
Slowly, I lean to him and swing my feet around his body,
snapping my head at the bandoneón’s downbeat.
Can you hear the symphony of the snowflake?
As its principal dancers weave their way
Across a milky sky
With diamond costumes, they emerge,
To perform their free-fall ballet, a solo performance
The meaning of their lives is in a spiral of destiny.
I saw you come through the clouds as I did
In your beauty, you were growing, spinning, racing, gliding,
I reached out; I grabbed your hand
Down came jolly Santa, lickety-split
not checking to see if a fire was lit.
He shot out of the chimney
while dancing a fast shimmy-
His job is oft harder than he'll admit!
Last eve's sunset wowed
for it held a million hues
as night stood waiting.
Reds and plums, hailed fading blues
Orange and pink spread the news.
I took a photo
of scarlet sun of my heart
in midst of tango.
A prelude to faint starlight-
Sacred poetry feeds the soul, like slow rhythms of ever green nature,
And the heartbeat's anticipation of sooner, finding satisfaction in later.
Anything is possible in verse, as it flows from fanciful, unbound mind,
Giving sublime inspiration and comfort, in vibrant styles, one of a kind.
Poetry is as vital to wholesome living, as is pursuing your rosy dream,
Though the sun reigns at lemon noonday, under thick clouds of cream!
When you find yourself wandering, poesy rhythm will guide your feet,
In the dance of self discovery and insight, which makes life complete.
Poetry warms eager hearts steadily, and adds pure romance to living,
Like gazing at the twinkling Milky Way, and stars which keep on giving.