take sips sip sips
tumble down the flowers
bundled in white towels at
my rose hips
from raised graves
velvet hearse
sandstone paves
push away stones along way

soothe
change patterns
surprise
break the consonance
act-like defiance
it's harder than we thought
hurry
get back to the tower
don't choke on the pink powder
before I get there

complex lush
doesn't need any soldiers
off horse, of course
only I reside in these gardens
part my own lawns to my great gates
a dosed beast waits
and I must return

Poetry is art

Poetry is what we know
to be arty
Where we go to be arty
What we need to be arty
How we feed to be arty
Poetry is the food of life!