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 May 2016
unwritten
i would be lying if i said that i desired dormancy from you.

more accurate would be to say that i simply came to expect it.

i am raindrops when you least expect them,
and yet i have found that you are always dressed
in raincoats.
so why answer me now?

i am pond water too still even for my own good,
and yet i have found that stillness is not a cause for concern when you are looking the other way.
so why answer me now?

i am a river nearly overflowing with words i wish i could have said to you.
and you put your hand to my quivering mouth and ask me, in a language you don't understand, to open up,
to let forth my second-guessed whirlpools,
my unspoken swells,
my half-formed waves -- thoughts with solemn crests but no trough to match.
but no.
i keep quiet.
i keep calm.
i let forth only a dribble, and then a steady flow.

you want to bathe in old times' sake,
and i let you.

i am a river
but i was building a dam for myself before you came back around,
and now?

and now?

my ebb and flow keep time with the movements of your lips and the curling of your smile.

the fish i hold are showpieces, my oysters child-bearers that lift their most beautiful pearls up to the sun so that you might see them.

the path i follow is marked solely by your footsteps.

i never really understood the concept of manmade rivers until now.

but you,
harvest moon high,
you fall and rise without even the slightest inkling
that i fall and rise right with you.

i keep quiet.
i keep calm.
i let forth only a dribble, and then a steady flow.

but sooner or later i will be empty all the same.

(a.m.)
wrote this over the course of last night & today, really happy with it. hope you enjoy (:
 Apr 2016
Miss Havisham
Rustic urns and garden walls awaiting
and cabbage roses open—their fragrance sweet:
A spicy aroma carried on the breeze,
Oh, enjoy it all now while summer lasts!

-M.H.-
Recall the training days of April with
juvenile curiosity , myriad painted butterflies
sailing golden-green opportunity
Wisteria , honeysuckle fencerow borders ,
Young Cottontails darting to an fro over
flowered , broom sage cover
Honey and nectar filled the air , Quarter
Horses worked the stair step valleys on
dew covered morns , Longhorn cattle
called home by the tolling farm bell ,
Rhode Island Reds foraged the fresh turned
farrows , sunbeams emblazoned woodland narrows
Copyright April 24 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Cuckoo bees and sprite Phoebes dance
the reflective rain pool surface
Dragonflies gander with glee , Bluejays
tilt their heads in question , fastidious Cardinals
wait their turn , harper Mockingbirds dry wet feathers in the nearing , overjoyed Sun , diligently painting Natures palate in every picturesque direction
Copyright April 24 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Apr 2016
Keith Wilson
He  stays  with  us  in  winter  storms
And  when  the  garden's  bleak
He  hops  around  in  sleet  and  hail
Appearing  pale  and  weak.

But  once  the  days  begin  to  lengthen
And  the  worst  of  winter's  gone
He  perches  high  up  in  a  tree
And  begins  his  joyful  song.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
 Apr 2016
Ami Shae
I met up with Time
and had quite a talk with her--
she keeps stealing my minutes & hours
making my life
an absolute blur--
so I told her in no uncertain terms
that she'd better give back
all those minutes & hours
I worked so hard to earn
and she reluctantly shook her head
so woefully
and without much of an apology,
she looks at me,
saying that what she steals
she does NOT return--
And as for all those minutes she stole?
She said she let them burn...
(****!)
 Apr 2016
phil roberts
Blossoms billow in slow-motion
Tender petals sigh to the ground
Cushioned upon a sunny breeze
And fat bees and lazy bluebottles
Are snoring gently
Bouncing softly
From bloom to gorgeous bloom
Glad-ragged and gleaming
In their gaudiest glory
And neon dragonflies drone
Adding to the sonerous  chorus
As they skim a sweltering pool
Where carp break the surface
Idly basking in the heat
There is a blackbird clarinetting
From the top of a nearby tree
And high-summer aromas
Pervade the shimmering air
And, just for this moment
Time itself stands still

                            By Phil Roberts
ROLL ON!
 Apr 2016
Keith Wilson
Nature  never  ceases  to  amaze  me.
This  week  I  saw  a  pair  of  mallard  ducks.
They  were  bathing  in  the  puddles,
outside  my  window.
They  were.
Splashing  and  thrashing.
Playing  and  spraying.
Having  a  rare  old  time.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
Where the earth and sky become one  ..Along the banded fusion of physical constraint
Indigo blues transformed into burnt orange
The tail of the galaxy commands this mountain-
sky , celestial offerings fall over Alabama-
in the shaded oeuvre of "The Apportioner " on this night ..
Meandering streams etch Cherokee hillsides ,
early evening fires conceal the nearby forested seas
The Crescent Moons luminosity glistens her summits northbound , released-
into the frigid voids of angered scope
Mans vista looms cold , blind and silent , nocturnal fauna return
to their Appalachian precipice to guard these ancient
storytellers ..
Copyright April 3 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved

The Apportioner or Great Spirit ( Unetlanvhi ) in Cherokee Mythology
Mowed grass wind songs enhanced by-
muted , diamond-like morning dews
Aromatic chanty bearing , offering hurrah for unemotional day's
Cheerful provider , highlighting the crisp color of Spring with fragrant marvel
Copyright April4 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Apr 2016
Pauline Morris
I want to take one day
To just go out and play
To forget about the grown up ways

To run, jump and romp
Pretend I'm Godzilla and just stomp
Or be a creature from the swamp

Make mud pies let them bake in the sun
Flap my arms like a bird when I run
**** it I just want to have fun

To see the world again trough the eyes of my inner child
When everything left me so beguiled
To see things in that why,has been such a very long while

Innocence left me at age eight
Since then all I've seen is hate
On a scale my misery would be hard to rate

Is it to much to ask for just ONE day
To go out and have some fun and play
Just one single solitaire day without the gray
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