Karma, Karma
hateful heart in trouble,
***** deeds of action
will now simmer and bubble….

That surge in the stillness of air
vibrates leaves on every tree,
the truth laying below deceptive layers
where you think you’re safe to be.

That tingly feeling on your skin
the spark of fire within your eyes,
a surge of deception fills the air
as light flickers in the sky.

An eye for an eye
paybacks can run deep.
Do you think yours are any different?
Karma really does SEEP!

Be careful where that energy roams
Karma pays back in triple,
for that ***** deed done and lie told
can devastate, destroy and *******.
~

are we and the grass and trees
ennobled graced gifted are we
the thriving warrior's
worker ants enrichers feeding the
throng
as we strive daily along
sniffing a scent we get in
our minds a nirvana a heaven if we just
keep on
and we wax and wane in lyrical bliss
tired to the bone whipped
just to hear a song of hope or
love or perpetual peace,
and as we stay the course for
the eternity as it ticks
we are blessed to breathe to be
a part of the chorus
a melody we all make buzzing like bees
a song once did escape the numerous
that sung so rare it made a song
like a bee and an ant on a pine cone
in the forest.
For that,
I hum.

what of the seed perfumes the form of the
bud  the color of her petals her flow through
the cycle some wisdom or design
has to be in the manifest depth of that circle
creating a seed once more to shed light on a scented perfume
tall the flower grows in total beauty, you say
it is intangible where the design emanates
but riddles are for man to unravel
in all his sciences prose and poems
and for all the life's cycles
what we discover and decide usually leads
to many amazements

Beauty
        comes
                at
                  Midnight
                         as
                           hopes
                                 and
                                     dreams
                                              take
                                             flight
                                       peaceful
                                 feelings
                                      of
                              safety
                          and
                      love
                guild
          through
                 morning
                            light.......

.
Snow drifts down
     laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
          creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
     bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
     and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
     A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
     as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
                     tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
          The snow falls,
     falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
               all is still,
               nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
     dreaming,
                       of being kissed by the Sun.



© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)

.
The emptiness is full of lost joys ...

The heft and fall
          of a wood axe
                    splitting down winter logs
The sight of girls
          pretty and fair
                    exposing flesh in the sun
The smell of flowers
          scented breeze
                    and fresh mown grass
The pint of real ale
          quenching thirst
                    after a long days graft
The company of friends
          killing loneliness
                    laughing and telling stories
The piquant moments
          of happy and sad
                    when tears flow easily
The arms of lovers
          on a cold night
                    and raising a heartache
The taste of fruit
          so ripe and lush
                    dribbling juice down chins
The feel of a smile
          crossing lips
                    releasing hormonal pleasure ...

The emptiness is full of lost joys …



© Pagan Paul (03/06/18)