"augur" poems
Dry winds of monsoon rainless
Caress my little hair idly
Fire crackers acrid painless
Waft up quite widely
The elements treat me fine
Yes, they are all democratic
Often verging on divine
Tho’ folks call em lunatic
Bother not, friends
Folks are easily dumb
That’s how it ends -
Tom, **** and a thumb
Tho’ nothing might augur well
Keep being until groundswell
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
Let the bird of loudest lay
On the sole Arabian tree,
Herald sad and trumpet be,
To whose sound chaste wings obey.
But thou shrieking harbinger,
Foul precurrer of the fiend,
Augur of the fever’s end,
To this troop come thou not near.
From this session interdict
Every fowl of tyrant wing
Save the eagle, feather’d king:
Keep the obsequy so strict.
Let the priest in surplice white
That defunctive music can,
Be the death-divining swan,
Lest the requiem lack his right.
And thou, treble-dated crow,
That thy sable gender mak’st
With the breath thou giv’st and tak’st,
‘Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
Here the anthem doth commence:—
Love and constancy is dead;
Phoenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence.
So they loved, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one;
Two distincts, division none;
Number there in love was slain.
Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
Distance, and no space was seen
‘Twixt the turtle and his queen:
But in them it were a wonder.
So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phoenix’ sight;
Either was the other’s mine.
Property was thus appall’d,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature’s double name
Neither two nor one was call’d.
Reason, in itself confounded,
Saw division grow together;
To themselves yet either neither;
Simple were so well compounded,
That it cried, ‘How true a twain
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reason none
If what parts can so remain.’
Whereupon it made this threne
To the phoenix and the dove,
Co-supremes and stars of love,
As chorus to their tragic scene.
THRENOS
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity,
Here enclosed in cinders lie.
Death is now the phoenix’ nest;
And the turtle’s loyal breast
To eternity doth rest,
Leaving no posterity:
’Twas not their infirmity,
It was married chastity.
Truth may seem, but cannot be;
Beauty brag, but ’tis not she;
Truth and beauty buried be.
To this urn let those repair
That are either true or fair;
For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
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Post-azure, cloud splashed sky,
washes with the suns descent,
breaking into melodies of sunset.
Fracturing into a blush,
the richness of the spectrum
makes itself known.
On a tangent of change,
amorphous clouds bleed
amber glow
and bittersweet combinations
of reds and yellows.
Vermillion streaks through,
and a few cloud folk turn titian,
like sumptuous surreal apricots
rotting in the sky,
that seem to augur
encroaching darkness.
Billows on the horizon
leak crimson,
like spilled wine on table cloth,
and pucker out
like blooms of flaming roses.
Fire refracted
coloured cousins of the sun
are dancing all about.
Here is the anthem
of wild transformation.
Here is cause
for quiet celebration.
Here at this fluent juncture.
Here at the closing of day.
The whole of the ocean below,
is the skies tremendous mirror.
It's reflection is variegated,
into variations a thousandfold.
Multitudinous, and ever differentiated,
distortions of above
ride the crests of waves.
Each apex is a new story.
Each new story,
just as soon as it is told,
comes crashing into trough.
Each finale is the ****** of beginning.
The dynamic roar
of the oceans ever-changing topology
is rife with meaning.
Colossal symphonic wonders,
the primordial song,
releasing upon: the uni-
verse continual,
sending the manifest
to move, with the give and strain
of immaculate design.
Here ensconced
between the safety of light
and the mystery of night.
Here at the oceans edge.
Above, shades of catalina-blue, in conversation
with the outer most cosmic-black
dismiss earlier brighter hues.
Tinged by the infinite nature of space,
the jeweled dome darkens.
Overhead, the first stars appear,
sky transparent to beheld blackness.
Luxuriant, pulling horizon, attracts
violet into it's unfolding theatrics.
Bloodied clouds turn purplish, then black,
a darkening rawness allures,
decaying with vivid beauty,
tragedies of a rouged romance
drug down into shadows play,
searingly alive, extraordinarily actual.
And then, the hush of dusk.
Darkness is felled, like silence.
Scintillating stars
strengthen in the nights
surrounding abyss;
giving radiance definition.
Dynamic Beauty
Lives In Transition,
Oppositions
Compliment.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC
Who said
sound is a vibration
that travels at a bizarre speed?
I saw it softly floating
ensconced in bubbles
to a celestial gravity
that pulls them up
to the realm of idyllic bliss.
Bubbles exude the
brilliant hues of my yearnings,
wrap me inside
their merino fleece warmth,
hold me to their *****
with the tenderness
I ever cherish in my soul.
Sound nestles in its heart
a mesmeric glow of music
ordained to play
the salute note
to augur the birth of a
new hankering.
The woeful flute
of the gypsy maiden
soulfully sings
a melancholy melody
for her lost love
to get a phoenix’s wings
under the silver mist of the
new moon’s splendour.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
Out of the night forth flamed a star -mine own!
Now seventy light-years nearer as I urge
Constant my heart through the abyss unknown,
Its glory my sole guide while space surge
About me. Seventy light-years! As I near
That gate of light that men call death, its cold
Pale gleam begins to pulse, a throbbing sphere,
Systole and diastole of eager gold,
New life immortal, warmth of passion bleed
Till night's black velvet burn to crimson. Hark!
It is thy voice, Thy word, the secret seed
Of rapture that admonishes the dark.
Swift! By necessity most righteous drawn,
Hermes, authentic augur of the dawn!
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The Muses, in the abstract, the women had guns and ****
and the course of experience only calls to a corner of the empty,
the knees of the flames, the tongue, the beauty of the girl,
the garden of skin, and its highest folly
that he was caught is so bitter: ***** was broken fat,
and there is a sound activate the body's kisses to **** the light,
I took hold of you feel a broad and six of its public
and I live by half the spirit of the origin of a teenager,
developers their walk by the body assigned to the ***
we are speaking of the cold; to drive out by his sweating winds
of the rainy warm-up did not watch,
but the **** in your mouth took her by all the colors of Asia,
stood a picture with nailed Satan,
is white dieth he shall carry WOOLF's augur shall give to drink
to meet the ode, the lover is moved,
the motion of the kidnapper
is of a strange god of time,
die without a goddess of the six that is,
of the Jews, he sat down, seeming to be the main parts
of each single instance, making them to pass;
His praise I remember right,
that the greater should be nil but nearly naked in the streets;
look at what the girls are wearing;
a bandage roll to a plural number
of prostitutes of dreams, imagining a human face on the ******
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
He’s trick, like enrapturing
Wherein lies the paradox of his pantheism parapet’s paragon
Extraversion embezzlements and euthanasia extortions
Diction’s enunciation echoes of opaque opulence
Its redolence a savory waft
The evolution of psychic clarity’s élan vital
Bizarre dichotomous augur the singer’s aural austerity
Gypsy Queen, his guitar’s moniker, romanced aimed intention
Elaborate elliptical empathy endeavors for posterity’s predication
Pandemically phatic propriety venerations
Their apex crux axis beyond finite solution
Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma
Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix
The individual must remain sacrosanct
Traipsing through the fallow furrows of assimilation’s xenobiotic barratry
Like capillaries' capricious and intravenous intrepid
Incalculably sensual beyond emotion’s expression
Impetus intrigue's intuitional verve
Ethology’s entelechy, theosophy’s theophany
Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities
Futurity's corporeally preternatural fatidic
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC
methinks thou confuseth
thy heart's impatient beating
with the tremulous and sonorous
summation of the immeasurable
wail of clocks ticking, begging,
listen!
these wondrous matches glorious
arranged in heaven,
where weighty watches
and yellowed human calendars
long ago dismissed, irrelevant,
discarded.
marked full well,
they did
upon thy heart,
when as babe
you drew first breath.
when thou will receive
love's bounty,
nothing more and nothing
less.
heavenly their watchfulness eternal,
impatience does not grant favour
to love long lasting,
ever true,
even if struck anew
with first impatient glance,
for much thought and endeavor,
masterfully planned,
thy turn scheduled,
recorded, awaiting only
for inevitable
discovery.
for though the streams of spring
rush full fleshed,
swollen forward,
thy truest love is
best read in the
gentle constance of
a gentle lake's
modest waves lapping,
like a beloved's
best ring finger
stroking thy cheek
in one continuous
caressing.
need not thou lament,
nor groan
with impatient travail,
fare thee well,
for the sails,
the course inexorable,
the destination prescribed,
foretold and heralded
upon the flags of thy eyes,
the banner of thy words,
that rest prepared upon
thy fullest and hungry
lips.
chance is but a
secondary miscreant,
whose role is but as narrator.
let's him speak infrequent,
but when comes his time
to conduct his sale,
well behooves you to
listen to that littlest of voices
you so oft disregard,
victim of your willful
fears!
the time, the play, the locale
all matched and set,
now we await only
your demonstration and forbearance
to honest augur the
greatest courage
to speak the hardest phrase
e're spoke:
I love thee more than myself.
for whence
can only be,
when thou breakbeat
the chains accursedly nominated as
Me First.
shout the key out loud
In the hour, nay, the instance,
thy first believe,
then long life and long love
can then
and
only then
commence.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
Augur well, on a left ward spirral.
I never meant to ignore
the residential Wren or lazy Cat,
who always knew better
than my list of dreams.
In the alleyway with dahlias,
I wanted to think as my own,
a perchance a symbol!
now there's sacks of pebble stone and sand,
no rub of green
builders mucking in for someone's joy to settle,
side gate entrance
into a little abode no longer possibly mine.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
"Democracy is the lesser of all evils."
Says the Liberal.
The Libertarian.
The Corinthian.
The Macedonian.
The Farrier.
The Squire.
The Stoic.
The Astronomer.
The Ornithologist.
The Eschatologist.
The Augur.
The Retiarius.
The Hoplite.
The Centurion.
The Governor.
The General.
The Senator.
The Orator.
The Assassin.
The Emperor.
The Ferryman.
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
A good place to start would be an introspective analysis of self, but what of the ramifications of objectified manifest? If evil is incarnate then what is the nature of corporeally preternatural? Can we save each other from the truisms of self we all embody, or do we all wallow in the pandemic phatic of our own fatidic as we seek augur's tout. My imagination tells me I can create a personification that has mystical properties but can this be functional garb or is it basically illusion. Can we touch each other, or even ourselves with these extrapolations? So many of us live by this platonic proxy photic aimed humanitarian instinct, maybe the reason we don't seem to succeed is because we need to be bad to be good. Further some of us are so bad that we obviously don't deserve to live but are those of us so inclined doomed to die of the ramifications thereof? And will this malady be a contagious virulence for all? Were it not for the astonishingly astounding and incredible nature of life itself I would almost be forced to abjure the nature of metaphysics on a corporeal level. Fortunately for me the answer is much more simple, I need someone to make love to, or **** if you will. I believe in retrospect this is obviously clear! Forgive my blither.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC
Tell me or show me once
I will not forget because I’m no dunce.
Saw you show me the day before
What I witnessed would have dropped you to the floor.
Heard it had to be done on another
I wanted to ask my mentor something
but he somehow read my mind,
Before the question, could come aloud.
Grab the gloves, and just relax, those were the facts.
You saw what I did now it’s your turn.
I found the target with my eyes and then with my hands
And yes, you felt like you had a case of freezer burn.
Scalpel in my right, your ticker in my left
Like an augur in the ice I sliced you a hole
Fingers then went fishing like having a pole.
Wanting a trophy that is my next goal.
Lowering the hooks into you now
I poked and then pulled your skin apart.
Found what I was searching for
Snagged it on a line I got it somehow.
Pulled it up and then out the hole,
Like in a action packed movie,
I picked the red wire to snip first,
Closed my eyes and thank GOD there was no burst.
All day it seemed I was on the prowl.
Now that the day is over,
I can wipe my sweat with a paper towel.
(CARSr 2012)
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 1:02 PM UTC
He’s trick, like enrapturing
Wherein lies the paradox of his pantheism parapet’s paragon
Extraversion embezzlements and euthanasia extortions
Embark embargo extraditions
Diction’s enunciation echoes of opaque opulence
Its redolence a savory waft
The evolution of psychic clarity’s id conclusions
Bizarre dichotomous augur the singer’s aural austerity
Gypsy Queen, his guitar’s moniker, romanced aimed intention
Elaborate elliptical empathy endeavors for posterity’s predication
Pandemically phatic propriety venerations
Their apex crux axis beyond finite solution
Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma
Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix's vertex vortex
The individual must remain sacrosanct
Traipsing through the fallow furrows of assimilation’s synthetic synthesis
Like capillaries' capricious and intravenous intrepid
Incalculably sensual beyond emotion’s expression
Impetus intrigue's intuitional verve
Ethology’s entelechy, theosophy’s theophany
Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities
Futurity's corporeally preternatural fatidic
Elan-vital's apotropaic apotheosis
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.
Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.
Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.
The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.
Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
I'm wearied of wearying love, my friend,
Of worry and strain and doubt;
Before we begin, let us view the end,
And maybe I'll do without.
There's never the pang that was worth the tear,
And toss in the night I won't--
So either you do or you don't, my dear,
Either you do or you don't!
The table is ready, so lay your cards
And if they should augur pain,
I'll tender you ever my kind regards
And run for the fastest train.
I haven't the will to be spent and sad;
My heart's to be gay and true--
Then either you don't or you do, my lad,
Either you don't or you do!
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I feel as if I’ve dreamt for years
but I’ve hardly slept a wink.
A tired heart while childhood fears
Come back to haunt me as my lonely eyes have managed just to blink.
An insensual aroma awakening my hope,
Long since hiding in the hibernating slumbers of my mind,
Escaping from the fear my every memory will evoke,
As the lover deep within me seeks to evade the world that me they hope it will not find.
I cling closer to my every breath,
Growing heavier with the passing days,
As an augur gust of pain with the crushing sound of death,
Leaves me abandoned in the loneliest depths of my trepidation’s crashing waves.
Has all the beauty this time has brought me,
Been left away so many miles,
And I am wondering if it will ever see so clearly,
That this distance our true love it will beguile.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 8:54 PM UTC
Swanky sauntering swagger of a sashay. Verve’s chutzpah, moxie savvy's panache, dexterously agile acuity. Articulate coordinated excellence and prowess’s talented exceptional. Objectified manifest's eidetic prospectus's invertible investiture's infinite possibilities perpetrate incorporeity ideology's perfectible ontology!
Intrepid intuitive intrigue, mystical magical multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis. Malfeasance evocative tout, execrating eventuation evocative expletives, executant tour de force entelechy's apotheosis. Ne plus ultra irrefragable opulence, erudite illuminism numinous piquant poignancy. Dynamic livid lurid vagile puissance. Lucid orotund sonorous fecund resilience.
Eloquent exuberance felicitous transcendent epiphany. Nuance tactile audacious preternatural metaphysical clairvoyant imperative. Augur quantum ominous avant-garde profundity, virulent vivid indomitably indefatigable cogent fatidic, quintessential deft. Celerity innovative veracious metamorphic, adroit nimble avid austere.
Fulgurous astute atman clever crafty rapacious sagacious. Effulgent zealous fastuous temerity machismo enunciation diction, imperative repartee. Exserted protuberance educement proclivities succinctly ostentatious. Ardent arduous inductive adamant incursion ostensible hornswoggling swashbuckler!
Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 2:55 AM UTC
I step outside
just in time, Father
for the leaf to fall from the tree
and the air is much too nipping, and biting,
and apple-pie
for me to hide from it
please, tell me a story,
all about it
about how the world ends and Your foot goes a
"stomp!"
over on the olive mount
and no more doors ever close like
sesame
sesame
sesame
ses—
I go along with things
just as if they are meant to be
and when autumn's chill catches
I hope to have You sewn onto my sleeve
not that I'd ask You to shrink for me
though I know that You would dare to do so,
and have
and prob'ly will again
and I can walk the earth like You
with intention in my feet and it will be so
meant
to
be
when the sun is just an augur
I hope to be sewn onto Your sleeve
and I can drop and fall like an autumn leaf,
and spring up again in the next wind You breathe
You bend down to hear
a calm in the torrential,
praying me a good prayer
unproved to me yet, but I know it
it's inclemence and drafty doors
and hot cinnamon in apple-pie
Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 2:55 PM UTC
Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.
Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.
Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.
The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.
Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 1:10 PM UTC
In the palm of your hand an augur collects dew,
Closer to molten rock then lava,
Like skin on glue.
Jeremiad tongues connect with one kiss
Of the first lover of his kind
Never to be missed.
Amongst skipping stones and a de facto home,
Books stack high between beds made of bone.
Excavating a rib cage only to find a heart, hard
Stripping each symbol of protection
On a door fire charred.
Your eyes choked love
Words tore veins slow
Burning the worst fire I'll ever know.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.
Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.
Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.
The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.
Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
A little sigh,
Departure
From this world
To astral planes,
The cutting winds stop their assault
And lift tenderly
A rolling breath.
Among the stars, it disappeared
Though long before
I beat it there.
From still feet, pocketed hands
The vivid rye enwraps my palms
Whilst I, lax feet,
Walk to fields
Of the midnight flowers.
Since the sun went to its rest
Their cosmic petals unfurled
I reached up
And pinched the seeds in my right hand
And flung them across the world.
But I could not stay,
For fear of dark
Nor force myself to leave
The upright shadows that walked at noon
Though soon gone, pushed me away.
Caught ‘tween sun and night, two worse off half-lights
Frightened to go,
Reluctant to stay.
There I sway, I take their dower
Through this precious selenian hour
In the forest
And over knells
To those fields
Of midnight flowers.
Their tiny halos of a velvet white
Augur what comes: a wanting night.
And yet their whispers,
Of dimmed succor
Show me in the yawning fields
What I came to them for:
To bathe in the pallor
That falls everywhere
And clasp my shadow’s hand
To run through fields
Past the morning hours
To lose my breath
And pluck the petals
From every single midnight flower.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
transcendent it was the first time
when it was of faint memory to touch
but voluminously told, exacting itself
like the pretense of the heaviest pages
the curve of your face the entry of light
through momentary indulgence
nerves their city buoys and the pedestrians
salt of skin in intense heat begging for details,
ways to sewerage of mind and previous blunders
and the purest landscapes of feeling,
the underpasses of eyelids where glances hit
first, stalk swiftly – to wait underneath their
shade in the fleeting Maytime sun
coming back with renewed fervor, remembering
that from there, waiting in that margin,
there are things that may only strike a potential
but never learned, memorized, collapsed into
the absolute, and that lostness is imperative
to the finding –
the river of eyes where pilgrims are in transit,
well-constructed like the mausoleum that
keeps its secret of hills and cathedrals
kept unmarred in the silence of your refusal,
pulled out to be nailed taut into origin
the blankness of your face taken as mechanism
of marvel – to whoever god drew lines on your face
and to whoever foolish wanderer would dare traverse
your collapsible bridges, the sonorous depth
of your being when back against the dash
of beating back to senseless origins,
your name similar to the prepared countenance
of Manila, passers-by in awe of your slow Moon
unraveling behind curtains for showerheads,
humming behind, a conversant tune
where not one being ignored and it was true
to the form of first whispers
this whole new world mapped out
made naked to the twisted augur of shadow
reared by light through innocence,
a whole city I know but cannot touch.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
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Beneath Autumn's amber canopy, crimson leaves descend,
Breeze hums soft, winds rustle, golden branches fend.
Fields wear coats of copper, the skies a mellow blue,
Earth rests ever peaceful, wrapped in dreamy prismatic view.
But wait!
Whispers in the woodlands augur, of winter drawing near,
Streams grow silent and slower, the days are crisp and clear.
Autumn weaves her fading robe, down the vale and up the hill,
Trees now bare and blown alone, brace for the northern crispy chill.
She reigns bold with crystal breath, She adorns the silver mistal frost,
Locked in the slumber of icy warmth, world's mesmerized n bitten frost.
Yet there's beauty in Winter's bite, X'mas stars so sharp and bright,
The glaring moon does outshine, longest of all those lustrous nights.
Whispers stir the uncanny earth, Snow thaws timid and un-certain,
Tender shaven heads of buds uncurl, tranquil signs of birth unwhirl.
The air gets sweet with secret songs, Streams anew in lyrical reprise,
This stoic winter though lingering still, paves the way for spring's encore.
And aloha!
Spring blossoms bright and gay,
Skies sing choirs of purple nights, and vibrant radiant days.
Draped in spectrum hues, the air is filled with laughter cues,
Joy spills out from sprightly souls, life renews her tillowed-faery soles.
And there!
Summer sun ascends in blaze n might, Skies stretch far in endless blue,
Fields decked-up in emerald green, flowers enticing n kissed by dew.
Warmth that hums in every breeze, rollicks lush in flare and plume,
Golden rays embrace earth enchanted, Joy looms large in glints n glows.
Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 1:33 AM UTC