On and on the seasons chime
A golden riddle: effortless rhyme.
But in my rule
I’ve begun to drool
For behold, a lady of infinite time.
Category: bubblegum
Night Before Departure (day 1162)
Tucked and stowed
And piled high,
Pleasantly delaying
A Horticulturalists Dream (day 1161)
Summer air and little drops
That puddle jump night to sleep.
From every lair come out great worms
Slithering through fresh mud.
Slugs depart on epic journeys
Across deep dark blacktop oceans.
And as all things growing
Most desire
Freshness from great rains,
Morning brings what can be called
A horticulturalists most desirable dream.
The Hour of the Feast (day 1160)
I pick upon the hours of time
Like some delectable brandywine
But to my delight
There’s never a fight
When it comes time to dine
Roses are Beautiful (day 1159)
My grandmother tells me that roses are beautiful,
That common sense is all around us.
She tells me that stars float on at night and
Clouds make perfect animals
Which change upon a whim.
She has upon her windowsill
An old foot I’ve always admired.
It holds in it (like a steady hand)
Utensils ready for marking.
To its right: new words for every day.
Never a day goes by without
Her graceful way of flipping.
With all her heart the words so dear,
Hold powers of deep providence.
And from that table, when sitting to dine
Upon a chair plumped by two softening cushions,
One can see through a window of far off China mountain.
More importantly, however, a quite a bit closer
In fact – just below her window,
Is a bush grown wild from years
Unceasingly blooming so.
It’s a rose, and she knows
How beautiful it is.
Pretty Name (day 1150)
Nothing ever stays the same
And all we ever get is rain
So if you catch a ride
And let it slide
I’ll ask your pretty name
Latenight Jazz (day 1123)
Loppity lope bop
Dances to fingers
In a soft, unceasing roll.
Your Love (day 1114)
By my side
It is warmth
From your presence
Gardening in Shorts (day 1102)
Little things
That bite and bite
Take away my sanity
Primrose (day 1097)
I met a man of wit and prose
Who spoke to me of a rare primrose.
He said he loved the way it held
It’s neck above all fields wild.
I said I had only seen it in three perfect rows.