My fire-eating career came to an end
when I could no longer tell
when to spit and when
to swallow.
Last night in Amsterdam,
1,000 tulips burned to death.
I have an alibi. When I walked by
your garden, your hand
......
Blooms bountiful on laughter lane
Purple peonies after raging rain
May melodies, sunshine songs
in emerald elms and garden green
A waking world, scents swirled
Saffron spring, scarlet ruby rose ~
Creamy clouds roam restlessly, slow.
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
......
About the size of an old-style dollar bill,
American or Canadian,
mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays
-this little painting (a sketch for a larger one?)
has never earned any money in its life.
Useless and free., it has spent seventy years
as a minor family relic handed along collaterally to owners
who looked at it sometimes, or didn't bother to.
It must be Nova Scotia; only there
......
watching the spring street
sitting on my window seat
in the fresh green hour
watching the people
in the sunshine of their lives
burgundy flowers
lemon butterflies
share a moment with the birds
......
Blooms bountiful on laughter lane
Purple peonies after raging rain
May melodies, sunshine songs
in emerald elms and garden green
A waking world, scents swirled
Saffron spring, scarlet ruby rose ~
Creamy clouds roam restlessly, slow.
watching the spring street
sitting on my window seat
in the fresh green hour
watching the people
in the sunshine of their lives
burgundy flowers
lemon butterflies
share a moment with the birds
......
absolutely fresh
in the way of sweet young years
lush floral careers
A time of tulips
Pink cherry blossom thrills too
Refreshing rains roar
In age of red butterflies
Looking to deep golden hours
The heady days of spring is smiling again,
Tender shoots of hope budding on branches
where icicles stayed on with stubborn frostiness,
like newborns with their eyes yet unopened.
Warmth of golden sun stroking your face
streaked by the weariness of the harsh winter.
The air is brimming with expectations
Gaining fresh ground every new morning.
......