Crème brulee, a careless mind,
singeing, burning albeit caramelized
like a politician never normalized,
crawfish should never be apologetic
there's an avaricious  food chain
in there somewhere,
gun shot without hardly knowing
right from wrong
conceal that  powder trail
dig down to Bayou.

I love the natural evilness of Monkshoods
their dark blue hypnotism,
but if contained and recognised
there unlikely to be of any threat,
unlike people of course
of whom you could say where
not naturally evil
merely acquisitional -
with all those fault lines that runs from that
headstrong and running on empty,
said the poet as  the nuclear laden train
passed by the suicidal rail line.

From the croaks of our throats
upturned winter wonderland
whistles incessant Good King Wenceslas,
whose crown is the most deserving here?
but knowest all roads led to ruination,
a frail rain has already
castigated any twinkle dust
and the only braves
are the iridescent petrol  streams glimmering  down
the  forsaken motorway  for January's finale.


.

Unable to sleep at night,
the factory's shattering light
transcends time
thoughts of an equivocal  escape plan
emerge, lunar station over and out!
but the awakening cat can only confirm reality.
I am left no wiser
why sleep had not been possible
then I realise,
December the month of fogs,
errant, stop and start
sweet and sour:
a lonelier time
than its invented self
could ever envisage.

At the time as the leaves turned colour
a hushed  slither of an acquaintance
brushed by as Autumn rising.
Healing beneath his tongue
He tasted Marchpane again .
Dazed by the impending changes,
temporarily taking stock.
At the time as the wind stood still
he found his trusted keys
for his Autumnal hut
and opening its door
he felt a rush for those
composted stored Tubers and rare cuttings
as they awaited his thoughts
an outpouring
his selection an inspired command.......

A Mare births in an open field
pristine the new foal
born as free,
that quality  never apply to you.
Emotional attachment seems self serving
Offering a new perspective there's no nourishment
unless its a one way tendril
a deadly nightshade blown awry ,  
the scope of your unfolding feels determined  - latitudal!