Sulfur cosmos, bright constellationed suns, call to bees’, butterflies’, hums’ of hunger to slake on pollenous, nectared sums.They give, even through rainstorms, until their now-husked offers have no more. Spent, sparse, dark brown spikes callme, beg to be jarred until spring church. De Jackson (aka whimsygizmo) is today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. De wants…
Category: shape
OctPoWriMo2019 Day 21 — small sail, big keel
Now you see it’s where jaws clench pressure builds walking with purpose down a corridor of doors opening each one and finding brick wall, known fail, or detour unhappy adventure, known outcome isn’t there another hall I can try, or is this it? Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock when you were born in a hallway and it’s all you…
Poetry Day 14 — If I Were Me
Part of the prompts for today’s OctPoWriMo I chose to follow are, “If I Were Me” and a shape poem. It probably won’t show up as a tree on small screens! An oak tree takes hundreds, if not thousands, of years to grow from an acorn and into a mature tree. Nobody questions it….
Tao Talk 