Post by Ron Buck (halfshell) on Jan 25, 2010 9:31:58 GMT -5
Just for you . . .
.
one
the Tern tips a wing,
skies up the clouds
dipped in BillowBlue's,
How do ya do?
short bottoms.
The Sun
breaks a shackle,
twirls his (very much)
mustard broom mustache
and giddy-ups Red the round
pony, down to the Sea
all a sizzle
with a wink and a hush
as Twinkles (up and about)
sprout glorious hands
waving.
two
my arms unwind
a table with two of a kind
chairs ready to chat
if you like about
anything never
thought possible.
They have promised
to whisper long enough
so every petaled ear
flowers again to listen
once more beyond words
for shy wishes about to
sigh forth.
three
a bicycle with oval tires
delivers an invitation
and oddly enough
does not bounce
one way or the other.
The trees jiggle a bit
you think but not likely,
although either way
doubt should gather
somewhere.
But it doesn't matter
because you are the party
of the invitation whenever
you like and everyone
will be there twice wearing
bow-ties that spin colorful favors
while Frank Sinatra croons
when he was young at heart
and a string (skinny) bean.
four
let us consider this
found broken shell,
barely a bit of itself left.
One can imagine
a time before now
never knowing a nick
or gist of a flaw.
If you look close,
a spec of truth
remains unscathed.
What could be more?
five
a garden salad appears
to struggle with a nasty
crouton.
His fuzzy disposition
is unclear, but garlic
in the air reeks suspicion.
A shredded carrot
curls on the edge
of the plate and
the wilted radish
drenched in balsamic
is not talking.
six
the car door opens.
seven
a button that will
do as it is told
and stay put;
ready and willing
to be sewn, worn,
pushed, or pulled
whenever, however,
or wherever you like.
It has but one request:
matching thread and
fingernail polish.
eight
a thumb poked and
finger prodded,
fumble-twist wreath
of bittersweet;
small enough to fit
a postal economy
flat-rate box, but
more than enough
to cover the cost of
a maintenance free
serviceable heart.
nine
a pair of never spoken
butterfly wings
to travel all-a-flutter.
Their tiny whisper brushes
will trace my name
across your body
wherever you like,
and however long
you wish to keep them.
ten
a wild uproarious wind
tickles the underarms
of solemn oaks.
There is laughter in the air:
hearty and bold.
The squirrels gather round
and wave their unabashed tails.
The garden just-too-giddy
pops open bloom after bloom.
You roll yourself into the green
weave of the smiling hammock,
look up into the sky,
while heaven sings
one glorious
guffaw.
eleven
seven brawny bucks
jump out from the back
of a white generic cargo van.
They stand before you,
tip their workman's caps
equally with elegant precision.
Simultaneous booming voices
proclaim:
We're here to move your earth,
shape your gardens, remove scrubby
trees, roots and all. Till the soil, plant
new bulbs, then groom the bunny,
if you like.
And let us not forget your favorite
cup of coffee, the newspaper
just off the press, a lovely summer dress,
and while we trim your hedges,
may we suggest, our very own
baritone hair performer and
manicurist, Alfonso Delpoppio.
The vibrations from his voice
will melt the sugar in your cup.
twelve
every word I could not find
to say the right one just in time.
I will string them all together,
each a node to beg forgiveness,
a necklace for the ages to fortify
my one objective: surround you
in my heart's forever.
.
one
the Tern tips a wing,
skies up the clouds
dipped in BillowBlue's,
How do ya do?
short bottoms.
The Sun
breaks a shackle,
twirls his (very much)
mustard broom mustache
and giddy-ups Red the round
pony, down to the Sea
all a sizzle
with a wink and a hush
as Twinkles (up and about)
sprout glorious hands
waving.
two
my arms unwind
a table with two of a kind
chairs ready to chat
if you like about
anything never
thought possible.
They have promised
to whisper long enough
so every petaled ear
flowers again to listen
once more beyond words
for shy wishes about to
sigh forth.
three
a bicycle with oval tires
delivers an invitation
and oddly enough
does not bounce
one way or the other.
The trees jiggle a bit
you think but not likely,
although either way
doubt should gather
somewhere.
But it doesn't matter
because you are the party
of the invitation whenever
you like and everyone
will be there twice wearing
bow-ties that spin colorful favors
while Frank Sinatra croons
when he was young at heart
and a string (skinny) bean.
four
let us consider this
found broken shell,
barely a bit of itself left.
One can imagine
a time before now
never knowing a nick
or gist of a flaw.
If you look close,
a spec of truth
remains unscathed.
What could be more?
five
a garden salad appears
to struggle with a nasty
crouton.
His fuzzy disposition
is unclear, but garlic
in the air reeks suspicion.
A shredded carrot
curls on the edge
of the plate and
the wilted radish
drenched in balsamic
is not talking.
six
the car door opens.
seven
a button that will
do as it is told
and stay put;
ready and willing
to be sewn, worn,
pushed, or pulled
whenever, however,
or wherever you like.
It has but one request:
matching thread and
fingernail polish.
eight
a thumb poked and
finger prodded,
fumble-twist wreath
of bittersweet;
small enough to fit
a postal economy
flat-rate box, but
more than enough
to cover the cost of
a maintenance free
serviceable heart.
nine
a pair of never spoken
butterfly wings
to travel all-a-flutter.
Their tiny whisper brushes
will trace my name
across your body
wherever you like,
and however long
you wish to keep them.
ten
a wild uproarious wind
tickles the underarms
of solemn oaks.
There is laughter in the air:
hearty and bold.
The squirrels gather round
and wave their unabashed tails.
The garden just-too-giddy
pops open bloom after bloom.
You roll yourself into the green
weave of the smiling hammock,
look up into the sky,
while heaven sings
one glorious
guffaw.
eleven
seven brawny bucks
jump out from the back
of a white generic cargo van.
They stand before you,
tip their workman's caps
equally with elegant precision.
Simultaneous booming voices
proclaim:
We're here to move your earth,
shape your gardens, remove scrubby
trees, roots and all. Till the soil, plant
new bulbs, then groom the bunny,
if you like.
And let us not forget your favorite
cup of coffee, the newspaper
just off the press, a lovely summer dress,
and while we trim your hedges,
may we suggest, our very own
baritone hair performer and
manicurist, Alfonso Delpoppio.
The vibrations from his voice
will melt the sugar in your cup.
twelve
every word I could not find
to say the right one just in time.
I will string them all together,
each a node to beg forgiveness,
a necklace for the ages to fortify
my one objective: surround you
in my heart's forever.
