lancing boils
******* out poison

and smearing into the faces of polite society
all the gunge
can be art at its best

The hill is alive

Marching soldier

Plugged into the hive

Follows the scent trail of the world before him

Winter is closing in

Food stores and Disney Plus

Take turns as kingpin

It's all about what's current

And holds a charge

Technological holdouts

Form an orderly line to the graveyard

The rest do their very best

To keep up with progress

Feeling like
An onion
Sometimes
Where each layer
Is peeled
Slice by
Painful slice
The deeper one goes
The more it
Makes one cry
Tears held back
From long ago
Perhaps yesterday's
Tears
Maybe even waiting
For tomorrow

The girl never knew what love was...

She had only heard people falling in love...

But whether love was an abyss or a deep ocean to fall into...She could understand it not!
...

Yet when she gazed at the moon his smiling face was all she saw...

When she lazily strolled in her garden...In the hum of the bees she could but hear his excited voice...

And when she sat down to paint her favourite picture... Her hands always unknowingly drew a pair of dreamy eyes...

She couldn't fathom her restlessness on calm nights and her calm on stormy days...

The world she thought had gone mad...

But little did the naive girl know that it was her world that was being carved irrevocably with...

The shape of love!