Wake up, wake up, from deep slumber,
waits the land, for warming up,
beneath, hold its hidden treasures,
push forth, proud heads erupt.

All dance and kiss spring morning,
colours wave in gentle swale,
purse their lips, all delightful,
nectar scent ore hill and vale.

Flora fauna finds its rhythm,
young arrive on nature’s breast,
a touch so fine, enchanting wisdom,
behold majestic, times request.

Hearts are rising, cobwebs lifting,
hopes course through a brighter day,
eyes are opened, more observant,
her dressings for this growing phase.

This emblem flies for minds impression,
paints a picture for all to see,
kissing spring in all its glory,
igniting energy, pure simplicity.

Curtains, veils of virtual vice

So, gaze through the ****** intermix
of positional latency,
nano-notions lost in frantic phantasm,
requisites of an idle, unhealed mind.
Draw the virtual screen curtains open,
bring forth the lustful images to
feed the circuitous appetite, lurking
front-row-presence, at the keys.

Unknown, undertones
of desirability, poses in patient wait,
online implication of fallen ways,
predication of unveiling moments.
As any-time-**** pours its spill
of sickest gratification behind
the curtain tab selective viewing.

It is someone’s child the glides on rails
of drawn conclusions, through windows
where drapes of cyber mindlessness
hang on dank walls of seedy buildings.
The ***** grinder always plays the tune
to which monkeys happily dance,
in a world where Neanderthals hang out,
unperturbed with new technology.