there is something about that note and the melody that languidly curls in the air a feathered piece of straw catching your ear held by the hands of mozart and elvis and even p.d.q. teasing driftly softly down blown by the soft breeze of progeny cascading joy rising up like incense holding the gift of past, present, and future the slightest brush of an angel's wing carrying the melody onward love: for National Poetry Month and the Writing Prompt of Poetic Asides (love) and NaPoWriMo. dedicated to my children
i imagine you will always wonder exactly who your daddy was and if he loved you with a heart as big as time. when you look into the mirror and see his eyes of cobalt looking back at you, will you wonder at the strange foreigner peering through time less ness at the lily? and will you wonder how he could leave you choosing instead his path of littered hearts becoming a soul less along life's way? Wondering: for National Poetry Month and the Writing Prompt of Poetic Asides (poetic form: Big 10) and NaPoWriMo. Dedicated to my nephew.
my green chair in the corner is my chair waiting expectangly for me to perch upon its cushioned seat and read volumes of revelation and texts on inane history that makes people cross their eyes in vexation and candles stand at attention ready to be lit waiting to provide wisdom and energy to the reader. nah. facebook. my green chair: for National Poetry Month and the Writing Prompt of Poetic Asides (snapshot) and NaPoWriMo.