a
rainbow
came into view
as the hikers
trudged the high hill
its colors were dazzling
they stood for many a minute
marveling at its bright palette
no handsome *** of gold could be seen
but nature had provided a grand scene

Get
wealthy:
the rich man
needs no heaven.
Everything's for sale:
take stock of the market…
prices and caprices vary
in the most bizarre of bazaars
we haggle with a zest for barter
and bargain away the best of ourselves
with third world orders of exploitation
a good greed never goes unpunished
in the most bizarre of bazaars
broken is quite optimal—
don't take it personal:
profits and prophets
both burn in hell
the poor man
prays for
rain.

the
fellows
at the beach
waxed surf boards
out they did paddle
some had wipe outs on the crests
others tunneled through barrels
summer time is such a super time
to watch surfers challenging waves

those
autumn
color hues
russets and golds
lay in the park lands
children tumble them up
with their feet making piles
they bury themselves neath colors
the waste of warmer days a fun place
lively children playing under the leaf quilt

the
cauldron's
strong potion
was manifest
in a dire toxin
simmering to the ***'s rim
this was a stupid portent
doom would be destine to prevail
the elements mixed in error
which ensured a disaster's outcome
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
bad omens were foretold by the recipe
the black sorcerer no smart blender
to late to change the concoction
it boiled over then blew
he'd not been very careful
in how magic works
such a novice
with dark spells
oh so
silly

Bow
before
the wolf king.
Lunar crown reign
midnight is my cloak;
the forest is my throne.
Kinship my only counsel
lupine sapience, eyes aglow
this grin a gala of guillotines
for those that would question such majesty.

silvery tresses of moonlight cascaded
down upon the palm tree lined shore
where young couples slowly strolled
taking in the night's ambiance
tarrying on the sea air
an affection wave
played with joy
so sweetly
in their
hearts

many interludes of laughter pealed
from a jovial kookaburra
who sat high on the elm tree's branch
gaily chortling to himself
as the dawning sun rose
of such merry tidings
the bird did bring
uplifting
was his
joy
######
he'd
given
the new day
a jolliness
the mood of much glee
making his chuckling tones
the sound great to listen to
enlivening the heart's spirits
with a bright awakening call
ever so happy in the morning staging

in
the land
down under
retired folk
get on the roadways
touring extensive countryside
their destinations do vary
some go to the coastal strips while some
do the inland trek in the red hues
we call these older folks the grey nomads

dusk descends upon the Oz bush landscape
the sun slowly reclines westward
cattle and sheep make for nightly camps
the faint sound of birds are heard
gum trees cast last shadows
o'er the land a hush
day closes
then to
night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
stars
aplenty
fill the sky
the scent of earth
flows on the soft breeze
so calming those night hours
the country is serene and still
how fortunate we who live here
in a place which is like paradise
as the moon sails across the bushland skies

The
shallow
waters pool
between my toes
shoreline shark vigils:
hungry liquid shepherds.

I wade past respectfully...
I am no seal, to be broken
littoral edges drawn crestfallen
the point of no empyreal return.

Crepuscular accession, immersion
salt stinging my eyes as I gill bliss,
pressure slowly crushing my lungs
burst capillaries tandem,
bones imploding in deep
thought actinism.

An organic
plight to make
the lost
light.

she
is cold
we can feel
her winter breath
she chills our napes
with her gelid icy hand
we take to our warming hearths
to shelter from her frostiness
she has no charity nor any compassion
how baleful her season of bitterness

the
moon's glow
lights the sky
with a grand orb
all night long it shall
keep company with the stars
together they'll decorate
the heavens in brilliant splendor
all nocturnal creatures will marvel
at the sublime display that they'll witness

a peaceful mood is within the country's chair  
rain drops falling dispersing their fare
the bushland no more in despair
a quenching drink on soils bare
terrain out of dry lair
getting a wet share
lands now repair
moist the care
goodly
air

the odium of the thing not forgotten
all about it twas dead set rotten
the nose did well recall the stench
enough to make the gut wrench
the fresh air did smell neat
it twas a great treat
begone gross stink
that rat fink
bad its
ad

dusk descends upon the Oz landscape
the sun slowly reclines westward
cattle and sheep make for nightly camps
the faint sounds of birds are heard
gum trees cast last shadows
o'er the land a hush
it's settling time
day closes
then to
night
''''''''''''''''
stars
aplenty
fill the sky
the scent of earth
flows on the soft breeze
so calming the night hours
the country is serene and still
how fortunate we are to live here
in a place which is like paradise
as the moon sails across the bushland skies

the poet's quill doth fill the page everyday
with a wordage selection array
readers do thrall in these displays
of images light of ray
so too of shades grey
on any given day
quills work away
to bring forth
poetic
plays