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Unpolished Ink Aug 2020
Reeds on the river
Bobbing heads with no real plan
Humanity in nature
bohemian rhapsody parades
     amidst greensward moored
erupting profusely toward cerulean skies
     ushered with invisible rip cord
this Earthling self assigned to an (elder)
     box office catbird seat - hoard
ding a secluded nook
     upon premises of Highland (highly adored)

Manor Apartments nestled
     within bucolic (cost wise, a ford
double) Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
     (40.2562° N, 75.4638° W) explored,
sans (founded in 1684) 
     pleasantly assaultive stimuli 
     conducted brake upon metaphysical ratiocination,
     where sunshine poured
upon variegated mother nature

     arrangement, viz spectacular
     vernal suite scored
a top ten hit orchestrating
     exquisite (August) May day presentation,
     which mutely roared
bedazzling this sensate
     being overwriting gourd
     fully stocked, when brittle

     winter snowy firmament forced accord,
     asper overlaying habitat
     palimpsest akin to (sic) ward
before an a may zing exuberant poly

     chromatic onset splashed vibrant
     brilliantly colored palette, toward
this captive observer,
     where choral symphony courtesy of flora
and fauna sensational

     encore performance
     (day at the) opera captivated ensured
fixated this tethered primate royally
     impressed and allured
by aural and visual

     regalia fit for a lord
and tailor, while solar orbitz
     directed by Helios,
whose journey across
     deep purple celestial sea deplored
noiselessly casting lengthened shadows
signaling luminous hued dusk
     chariots of fire earthly dome ceiling ablaze
     pearl jam disappearance,
     when daylight blinks adieu

til the morrow, when dawn
     betakes the reins to reign cosmos chose
zing emergent rays announcing
     morning haz broken
     nudging, prodding, rousing from doze
well rested body electric,
     where energy flows
as attested from me noggin glows
nsync, sans panoply
     of soundgarden crescendo propose
zing ideal material sharing circadian rhythm
     thru the time stream yours truly rows.
Sally A Bayan Jul 2017
\|\||//|\\||////


I see young reeds on the marshy water
......with flexible stalks...softer...smaller
forcefully swayed by the ones taller...older
...squeezed in between
...no choice given
.....but to exist within

there are those that bravely stray
...even before the stiff ones get blown away,
.....out of the reedy confines, they peek
......curiosity and freedom...they seek

i watch these young reeds rise and totter
when the wind moves the shallow water
bravely peeping...finding their light,
...claiming their space....with traces of fright
.................learning to fight
...with every fiber of their might.
...they can't go farther
................than yonder
in restrictions, they'll find some wisdom
eventually, they'll discover  true freedom

one day...their blades would be more defined,
toughened, honed by rain, sun, wind and time,
in their minds, my words would have to rhyme...

but, until then...i got to be taller
......sharper.....tougher
...flexible, but dauntless
i have to sway 360 degrees,
.......when the need arises....


Sally

Copyright July 12, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
.(sorry, i easily fall into the rhyming trap...this is about
   my five granddaughters...changing, growing up so fast...)
Colm Jun 2017
It bends its back and cracks its spine
Out of sheer frustration
Much like a whip
For as it is, it seems to be, and ever will be
The unchangeable, and the uncommented

Much like the silent birds which breathe, yet are not without their own beauty
How they never sing, and will never speak of such things
Because this is how, and this is when
I know why the willow whips do weep

For as we are one and from the same
How they cry in silence, not out of vanity, but out of frustration
Because you, in stay, know no other way
Than to pass them by before they can speak

Of the way your footprints tread on the teeming dandelions
Leaving only the meadow left in pain
For you are so invested in your own sunshine
That you neglect to see and hear the same
That the willow whips now weep in pain
Source: Never to be revealed - But it makes me shake my head every time I see it.

— The End —