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James Gable Jun 2016
Sunset is one time, one thing I dare to love
Different to sunrise, but not so much in light
It’s how fishermen hold so tightly to their line

In evening, my countenance feels pleasantly light
I move through cool air, a smooth-flowing line
Intersecting invisible ties, each person and each they love

I wait for some odd thing in a long ordered line
Calmed by the blending of sun and sea that must be love,
Serenely, I disappoint those in need of cigarette light

The sun bade farewell to the sea, and fell below the horizon line




*—Urchins are hedgehogs of the sea, I was called an urchin by my mother, which I loved. The nicknames only got worse from that point
Part Two of The Man Who Longed to be an Oyster
Ottar Apr 2016
The grounds echo sounds of gardeners grooming.
The blue sky canvas and a wash of clouds,
hang lightly, dressing up the place for show.

Pruned branches and piled neat cut grasses show,
uneven sweat stained shirts, on grooming
gardeners, hoped on winds below the clouds.

The vaulted layer heightens heat, no clouds
move, the breeze blows no reprieve, a no show
by day's end, the gardeners need grooming,

without clouds, a shower shows good grooming.
Tritina ABC, CAB, BCA and final including all three

— The End —