A loon is like quibbler’s spoon
Lost amongst a star lit moon,
For every motion
Is quite awoken;
A beach of a tranquil loon.
Category: limerick
A Lady of Seasons (day 1170)
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.
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
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
Windswept Horizons on a Country Landscape (day 1120)
Lilies and my sister’s name.
Leftover intelligence’s silent shame;
Gaia’s ugly hour in tears,
And I am the fears.
I am the whispering remains.
Heavy Focus (day 987)
A heavy burden which closes my eyes
Shifts and whirls and slowly dies
When focus determines
It’s absolute vermin
And heaven reveals its shiny blue skies
Fading (day 959)
Lines worn into my curled hands
Write stories about these barren lands
Cris-crossing my page
With dried, sweet smelling sage
Listening to fading sounds of the band
Dog Walkers (day 918)
I sit here from my porch in snow
Watching strangers pass and go:
In front usually bounds an excited dog,
Master then ordering, stumbling in fog.
Accepting this as natural flow
Fraying Moors (day 881)
For the day I went away
My eyes they didn’t say
I never wanted to be yours
Alone in soul with unkept moors
Our love sent into fray
Enemy (day 874)
Hello my dear enemy who
I am your enemy too
I growl and spy
And really try
To make things hard for you