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A Zippo lighter with a smoker's cough,
propositions the ladybug
clinging to a flannel pocket,

You can always trust a tealight
to warm the neglected beetles,
that cling to your chest.

this Ritual of the staring contest.
attention behind the curtain:

When You blink at the Rorschach shadows
tell me, they are not mailboxes.

The spirits linger; we stumble into entanglement

birch trees weaving
baskets from our branches

I'm known to cave on integrity, for the taste of freckles,
flickering tealights in the hearthstone, with a smokers cough.
Little shadows, little shadows
Dancing on the chamber wall,
While I sit beside the hearthstone
Where the red flames rise and fall.
Caps and nightgowns, caps and nightgowns,
My three antic shadows wear;
And no sound they make in playing,
For the six small feet are bare.

Dancing gayly, dancing gayly,
To and fro all together,
Like a family of daisies
Blown about in windy weather;
Nimble fairies, nimble fairies,
Playing pranks in the warm glow,
While I sing the nursery ditties
Childish phantoms love and know.

Now what happens, now what happens?
One small shadow's tumbled down:
I can see it on the carpet
Softly rubbing its hurt crown.
No one whimpers, no one whimpers;
A brave-hearted sprite is this:
See! the others offer comfort
In a silent, shadowy kiss.

Hush! they're creeping; hush! they're creeping,
Up about my rocking-chair:
I can feel their loving fingers
Clasp my neck and touch my hair.
Little shadows, little shadows,
Take me captive, hold me tight,
As they climb and cling and whisper,
"Mother dear, good night! good night!"
Now do our eyes behold
The tidings which were told:
Twin fallen kings, twin perished hopes to mourn,
The slayer, the slain,
The entangled doom forlorn
And ruinous end of twain.
Say, is not sorrow, is not sorrow's sum
On home and hearthstone come?
Oh, waft with sighs the sail from shore,
Oh, smite the *****, cadencing the oar
That rows beyond the rueful stream for aye
To the far strand,
The ship of souls, the dark,
The unreturning bark
Whereon light never falls nor foot of Day,
Even to the bourne of all, to the unbeholden land.
Autumn morning greets us here
In a town buzzing festively.
Through our windows, we can peer
At the sight of discolored leaves.

The wind whips past busy folk,
Bustled within the shopping square;
Coming home to fires they'll stoke.
Hopefully, today proved quite fair.

Small journeys in countryside
Can sooth your soul and calm your pain.
Peaceful are leisurely rides
As rooftops feel sprinkling rain.

Revel in the serene scene,
Winter will soon quickly arrive.
Breathe the crisp, cool air so clean.
It's a pleasure to be alive.
This poem is, of course, about Autumn. I wrote it back in October or November, but I'm still new to this website, so I was hoping to share it despite the fact we're past that season.
harlon rivers Dec 2017
Gray Owl hearkens
the dappled daybreak knell
echoing through
the wildwood forest stand;
rock doves and frosty stones abide,
where a marooned heart doth dwell,
disrobed by the longest night's frigid touch

Timber stand grips tight
red clay and bedrock of ages,
postured tall and strong
as eagle's spirit throne

Pine cones hide
in the low drifting clouds,
ripe acorns tumble down alone
unto  a  windblown
shallow earthen grave,
hillocked  beneath
the sky-high canopy

Bones of branches,
furrowed bark from burled oak,
wood-grains of pith,
natural gnarled achings
peeled by the shivering
wind's breath

Paling autumn memories
grow dim as the receding sunlight,
recollections of ebbing Jasmine's
mellowing fragrant balm
waft aloft in a favorite fading fantasy,
the edge of winter metamorphosis
bears down with a prodigious weight
of a different kind of retreating light;

brindled Queen Anne's lace
hold sway across
the tawny frostbitten meadow
imbuing the poignantly
whetting breeze

The blink of an eye winks,
to catch sight of
an intimate glimpse,
an unspoken
solitude holds forth,
the mesmerizing coo of rock doves,
reverently mirroring
the sanctity of the forest wildwood
lingering amongst the frosty
ferns and stones

The harmony of tranquil silence wanders;
only the bowing resistance of the boughs
manifest the shapeless wind’s
whispered  breathe
swirling above the labyrinth threshold;

therein lies an unfractured fault line
rooted deeply beneath
the earth’s crust
like the sonorous heart
of a sanctuary hearthstone

Hence there is symmetry
felt in silence that only whispers
in the deep toned consonant
of our own harbored sighs

a holy human blood link
born of  heritage wilderness heartwood
beats keenly alive


written by:   harlon rivers ... December 2017
Notes: Midwinter orifice into the North-woods

Thank you for looking through a soul's portal at winter solstice
I

A speckled cat and a tame hare
Eat at my hearthstone
And sleep there;
And both look up to me alone
For learning and defence
As I look up to Providence.

I start out of my sleep to think
Some day I may forget
Their food and drink;
Or, the house door left unshut,
The hare may run till it's found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.

I bear a burden that might well try
Men that do all by rule,
And what can I
That am a wandering-witted fool
But pray to God that He ease
My great responsibilities?

II

I slept on my three-legged stool by the fire.
The speckled cat slept on my knee;
We never thought to enquire
Where the brown hare might be,
And whether the door were shut.
Who knows how she drank the wind
Stretched up on two legs from the mat,
Before she had settled her mind
To drum with her heel and to leap?
Had I but awakened from sleep
And called her name, she had heard.
It may be, and had not stirred,
That now, it may be, has found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
I
A SPECKLED cat and a tame hare
Eat at my hearthstone
And sleep there;
And both look up to me alone
For learning and defence
As I look up to providence.
I start out of my sleep to think
Some day I may forget
Their food and drink;
Or, the house door left unshut,
The hare may run till it's found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
I bear a burden that might well try
Men that do all by rule,
And what can I
That am a wandering-witted fool
But pray to God that He ease
My great responsibilities?
I slept on my three-legged stool by thc fire.
The speckled cat slept on my knee;
We never thought to enquire
Where the brown hare might be,
And whether the door were shut.
Who knows how she drank the wind
Stretched up on two legs from the mat,
Before she had settled her mind
To drum with her heel and to leap?
Had I but awakened from sleep
And called her name, she had heard.
It may be, and had not stirred,
That now, it may be, has found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.

ANOTHER SONG OF A FOOL

THIS great purple butterfly,
In the prison of my hands,
Has a learning in his eye
Not a poor fool understands.
Once he lived a schoolmaster
With a stark, denying look;
A string of scholars went in fear
Of his great birch and his great book.
Like the clangour of a bell,
Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet.
That is how he learnt so well
To take the roses for his meat.
Marian Jun 2013
There's a gentleness so tender,
In her heart's Hearthstone fender,
Coming from my Mother's heart alone;
It doesn't matter the occasion,
That a spark of love invasion;
Never pausing, so tenderly has shone.

For you're God's plan from heaven,
For your tender heart like leaven,
To hasten and mix your heart below;
For it doesn't matter where you find her,
There's always something so sweet about her,
Wonder touch, her Mother touch, that I know.

Flowing laughter sweetly sounds all the day long,
Singing the sweetest bird song,
Cheering and hugging every hour;
Then she goes to her quiet retreat,
For her hour of prayer so sweet;
A secret of her sweet nature and willful power.

Soul of my Mother, colourful like a tapestry,
The love of my Mother is as boundless as the sea,
Freshened like a flower with its dew;
For love showers will embrace her,
God smiles from Heaven above to bless her
And her life is ever shining and true!

*~Marian~
I changed a poem around a bit that I found in a book!!
I hope I changed it around enough but this is the only way I could express the way her heart is!!!
So this is for YOU, dear sweet Mother!!! :) ~<3
Kyle Houseman May 2018
Sell my fortune for this,
hedge my bets and trim the hedgerows,
turn the corner of my hearthstone
find myself neat and low.

Nice and steady, but ready.
For something broader,
something deeper and more meaningful
meaning I have to try harder
and not just idle out and auction off all of my clothes
I don't feel like washing at all.

I get that feeling often.

My attempts at causation may have caused concern,
but I've found you cannot have something to prove
without having something to learn,

that's why every day I die and come back to life.

breath new life, trifle with new strife.

keep kicking until I get kicked out myself.

isn't that what this life is all about?
requisite poem for entrance to Hello Poetry, published here

"Well hello Hello Poetry"
Evelyn Halstead Jan 2016
I want to go back to that place
The one I wandered away from
The house of pleasure, warmth, joy
The place where affection is natural, easy
All sheathe their weapons at the door
(Instead of keeping them within easy reach
on the dining room table)
When you close and bar the door at night
You're locked in with a friend, partner, ally
Not a trickster hiding a dagger.
I want to go back to the haven, sanctuary, long house,
hearthstone, table, bed, and garden
Where love is rooted
And flourishes in safety.
Anton Kooistra Feb 2016
you came over for Christmas
but my love
none really.
Even when you're not here

But I promise to be collected
sorry.
halloween
how i spent
use it
remember when
and cannot
for once
I wanna kiss and hug you when youre sad.
myself
if i could
Wipe your face
the thing
Promise me a forever
for what i did.
now that it's over
and we both
When will they leave.

for nobody to see

but i can't bring myself
getting a costume ready
content
regrets
you can have it
my heart did love
You're beautiful no matter what mood you're in
sweet

i need
i wish none of it had happened
remember when
non stop
It flourishes on its own;
and i am
i had finally
from getting hurt
to go out
Here are some tissues,
apathy.
remember when
to me,
the one person
so happy
nothing
in hopes
Hold me down i know your stronger
giving me
stupid mistakes
maybe
to get hurt
from contacting you

bad decisions
Where are you?
Girls sometimes get stuck with destruction
worry
so i tried to push myself
wallow
Its because there is nothing that is bad.
remember
Here is my shoulder,
I don't look forward, I keep looking back

Then it must be maintained.
to other people
They revolve around serious issues;

I feel you by my side
over the person i love

Someday it will be too late - no way to run from you

While our love grows older.
again.

with nobody
Pressure tight
ANOTHER POEM YOU WON'T READ
I should've listened to you.
with someone
a second
not that you care.
over my mistakes
be with you
Of thing that could never fade.
not a
Only now I'm realizing I ******* up the most by losing you
I've grown ten more feet, strong fresh shoots.
i hoped
Every couple fights,
chance.
that i selfishly
i am not

because i am

what i would lose
and i came over
To the good times we ever had
not that it matters,
I wanna poke your cheeks,
i hope i get my **** together too.
We get put here because we come to think that is all we amount to
it makes me want
to give my love
i soiled
there's no excuse
but i'm rotten
and anytime my phone buzzed
Girls don't want guys who abuse them
For love is something
i would go back to december
and when you're happy,
we were *******
I can never be alone
i didn't catch
in sight
i want to tell you why
to love me
i did catch her?
Cease it shall not,
and play hearthstone
for what i did.
thoughtful
none.
remember
It is okay to cry,
to.
Through and through.
That cannot be taught.
and snuggled
i do love you,
Wipe your face,
and spoil everything

but i need
I will bleed it
you loved it

who are interested in me
and try
only reason i can give
some day tomorrow.
i miss
Trying to get warm

you say something to me
and make myself
I want to be so warm
in some subconscious attempt
i would go back to last week
Girls don't want guys that just use them
those times.
Guys sometimes can't handle construction
with a bunch of pillows
So your eyes will dry.
i felt

to snuggle with it
achieved
staying warm

Look at all the clones
messaging me.
sure
i can be
or sleep with it.
remember
Dirt
of doing something good

Lean on me now and forever,

for you
you moved for the first time

to break down
for my own insecurities
your reaction

i had been working on
jigglypuff
but it's not love
E(motion)al
i have men
Guys don't want girls who act ******
Bite into the bone,
bought me that giant

i miss you
didn't want
just
and my mom
That is very true,
when we first met
how i would sit on your bed
no success
it was you
and insecurely
and tell myself
now
Can you laden my bones?
Lean on it always,
tell me you want to die
How bold it is;
snuggling
if i could
Here are some tissues.
and tell myself
that are to keep me
it is yours
who loved me
You're  locked in my heart, Forever...
However, it is the type
I should've left all the negative in my life and quit drinking, smoking, stealing.

to keep myself
Needing you
i don't want you, i don't need you, but i have to
Just scream it,

It is okay to cry,
that is the
but when
I can't repeat myself an longer

of my depression

for months
Where have you gone.
i hope i stop treating people like this.
i am alone
my shiny
i took it home with me
and slept on your floor


you'll never fall behind.
Laden my bones hold me down my dear spouse.
and we made a nest
Our obstacles are no burden,
you were actually
Here are some tissues,
Can you laden my bones
it may seem like i don't care

i didn't think
the walls i've built
should have known
i can't
thats when i make mistakes.
Skeleton Love
we loved it
occupying myself
I'm breaking breaking away from the roots
was so sweet
Scrape it along the break
know that.

and we couldn't get enough of each other
perfectly
who i do not have anymore
i don't have motivation to do it,
Anchor me to home
to delete his number
i hope i grow up too.

if you want.
the summer
then.
fuzzy blanket?

so much money
other than
and tickle you when you're mad.
distractions.

i was so upset
and i don't deserve it.
Baby, it is okay to cry,
but worse than that
most of the time
with your own marrow
Guys don't want girls that get glitchy
with other interests
and i could still

does not want them
Fill my hollow
So your eyes will dry.
Crying Eyes
can't seem to look me in the eye
kind

i have nobody
And watch it climb the side of our old house
Randomized from poems found under the tag "Relationship".  (recording on soundcloud in progress)
Mahdi Dn Sep 2019
Rise, brothers,
Freedom calls us.
Grab your guns
Wear your helms

This day all tyrants
Will turn to our servants
This night their hearthstone,
We will own!

Army of the horde is on the way
Warriors, line up!
Standby for battlecry
Bloodlust has conquered our minds and our souls.
Rip off their hearts,
Break their skulls!

Trenches made of corpse
Armors made of bones
Slaying the horde is our goal

Taunts and cry-outs
Sounds of swords and shields
Is our music

Their throats and their backs
Sounds of the bones break
Injured warriors are bleeding
It paints your soul

Stand up and fight
Drive the lance of light
Into the eye of the night
Free the world from the rage of this dark hate

Army of the horde is on the way.
Warriors, line up!
Standby for battlecry
Bloodlust has conquered our minds and our souls.
Rip off their hearts and break their skulls!

Rise up!
Lyrics to the song with the same title by Chaos Descent, released in 2014
Written by Mahdi Monstrosity Dn
this middle aged rue stirring ******
   haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
   eggs hit from Arctic portal en fold
ding Atlantic Seaboard

   in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
   brutally sub zero temperatures
   from an occasional nor'easter
   fiercely gripping hold

the majority years, sans this prolific
   recalcitrant scrivener lived
   in various and sundry abode
   housed within Southeastern
   Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
   with 19* zip code,

and during my boyhood recall,
   how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
   in preparation for planting time,

   where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon
   many a green acre got tilled and hoed

despite feeling energized and refreshed
   with arms and legs n'er fro zen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric

   experiencing hearthstone nook
   designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
   and toes to make sure, i still got ten

soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
   and floral kaleidoscope of color
   aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
   drifted toward approaching spring,

the season revitalizing
   dormant natural inhabitants,
   whose excite (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching from the lizard king.

This Spring Equinox (i.e. man date:
   12:15 PM Tuesday,
   March twentieth two thousand eighteen)
doth rejuvenate
   inviolable hibernating animals

   and plants, and me equate
to experience sensation,
   whereby entire being does inflate
and (despite marital status),

   nonetheless envisions another gal asthma mate
no...no...no...please do not think this chap
   mean spirited and under rate
the woman (at present taking a siesta,

   and i breathe easy),
   who oft times doth henpeck, a trait
inherited many a chic hen
   (with tantalizing tail feathers)
   now (until she awakens)
   proscribing yours truly to wait

for my repast most likely ad hoc
moist ideal for any nerdy kid to knock
senseless, the worst facet of self important ****
   consisting of pop slop mock
Hungarian Goulash, a melange
   of relics from age old meals
   transformed into a petrified sawed little rock.
girl diffused Feb 2018
Just the frenzied need to get it out
Just the raw feeling
No anesthesia
No anesthesia
How I'm the rotting tooth you cut out of your mouth
How I'm the stinging paper cut that you slapped a Band-Aid on
How I'm blank paper
How I'm all blank slate
How it meant nothing
How I can't slip the shoes on now because it reminds me of wearing them around you
How I keep them in the closet
“You'll know I got them for you”
A “think of it as a memento, every time you look at it”
No hesitation

The beat-up heather gray Ellen DeGeneres shoes you bought for me
Unmarred and untouched
How the card still resides in the bedside drawer
Or didn't think about the card you got for me
But did that anyway
Bashfully admitted that you normally didn't do that
Twined your fingers around mine,
Or how you eventually held my hands,
Because you never did it
Or think about how you'd hold me after ***
Because you never said it,
How it was during an ******
On your tongue
Feel of it in your mouth,
And memorize it,
Or playfully say my name
Or write poetry about me
As I impressively recite your full name, down to your deceased mother's surname
As I say your name, more than my own
Or try to recall the sound of my voice
Or my smile
And never think once of me
And talk with your coworkers, all female
And flirt with your receptionist
And receive your paycheck
And go to work
And walk your dog
As you go about your day and pay your bills
Multiple meanings that you don't care to explore
The simplified “hey,” kind that's pithy and vague
Late-night message compositions
It's not, it's just not
Oh, **** me, it's not like last time at all
See that you don't follow me back
Send a friend request on Soundcloud
Tell myself that you won't say anything
Compose another message but leave it unsent

Lower and lower
The faint dark hairs trailing down the otherwise smooth navel
Sought my approval
Sought approval
How you asked me repeatedly, shyly, if I was okay with that
How you wanted to shed that weight
The barely-there protrusion
Memorizing the soft roundness of your stomach

Stupid little nicknames that I would **** for now
T-Money
T-Swift
Tay
Tay
Taylor
You playfully saying my name
Your lips moving,
When you coo to your Papillon
When you're talking to me over a bowl of quickly whipped up oatmeal
Encouraging me to touch myself in the ink-spilled darkness,
Murky, and blurred outline of your hand
Try to remember what your voice sounds like –when you're angrily yelling about Hearthstone

Gnash my teeth and don't realize it until ten minutes later
Get up and turn the fan so the stream of air blasts unforgiving onto my face
Toss and turn in bed—literally—throw the duvet off
Think of the shirt you were wearing in your last profile picture you had when we first started talking
The one with the dusky blue V-neck
Study your year-old profile picture that I told you looked good
Listen to music on Soundcloud
Look up jobs instead
Don't actually do it
Debate re-adding you
Look over your profile on Facebook, my secondary account
The “hey, I hope you're doing okay” kind
Late-night message compositions
Splintered and fractured
Bloodied veneer and strands of hair

Porcelain sink
We were so lonely and misunderstood
You were...
It's just a dream though, just a ******* dream
Read it forward and then once more backwards. A series of heartbreaking memories and moments in stream of consciousness. N/a.
Robert Brunner Dec 2019
the turn of the rail
round the land.
the curve of the
soundbox against
the hand.
the engine rumbles
somewhere, undefined,
as love disappears
tonight.
the wall lines the sea
in holland.  The velvet
folds close the stage
at the opera.
Tile on the roof
silently shedding
the rain as love
disappeared today.
Relentlessly cold is
the hearthstone.
The march of the
nightshift to
the factory
from home.
Barge tied to barge
sounding the horn,
a freight of black
coal, buries the heart
as love disappears tonight.
Dark are the waters
plied by the fishing
boats and trawlers.
The paths are
map-less
ruthlessly speaking
a language that's foreign.
At the edge of the
canyon without
finality, love
disappears, over and
over again.
Shivani Lalan Apr 2019
never and never my boy,
riding away and away
from the land of the hearthstone tales
to never look back,
fear or believe
that a look cast into the past
might trip you up ahead.

never and never my boy,
fear or believe
that your Troubles,
dressed in cloaks of Joy -
snarling and snaking,
roughly and blithely
shall leap -
my boy, my boy -
into a home under new trees
in a sunlit year
to eat your heart
in this house
in your whole new world.
in country sleep by dylan thomas is one of my favourite poems ever. this is my reply/homage to it.
Satsih Verma Feb 2017
Life had tossed you in
flames.
Like hearthstone, I sit
deleting my colors.

Time on black feet
runs, on the sacred
river bank.

Molten lava will ask
when, and from where
the funeral procession will start.

A ******* wants
the evidence of ****. Two
leaves will not cover
the naked aggression.

The spooky game had
become, ultimately― the biopic. Once
angles used to roam
on the burning coals.
Jason Margraves Sep 2018
Depression lies.

Sitting there like a crouched creature, trapping the beast inside,

depression lies.

“You’re unremarkable, not desired, an adjunct failure,” it cries.

Depression lies.

Moving slowly, bellowing, sluggish through a swamp of self-defeat.

Depression lies.

It lies, like an unlit hearthstone at the bottom of the deepest, darkest dungeon.

Cold, unloving and chalking each success up as an “accident”,

depression lies.

It bares its soul at the foot of each wrong decision, eating energy away until you’ve withered into nothing,

Depression lies.

It showers us with doubt, like we shower the shower in tears of self-defeat, letting water separate our scars from what we are.

Depression lies.

It has a hold on the mold that pieces pictures of my life together,

bringing comfort in the form of the end, deciding for you that you don’t need a “friend.”

Depression lies,

and I hate it for that.
Known as Bubba and,
she hapt tubby renown
to savor livingsocial
to five grandchildren, (now grown),
my late mother fourteen
journeys around nearest star died,

nonetheless fought tooth, nail and bone
years presence christened and known
since November 13th, 1935,
though last few years transformed
her into a crone,
yes Harriet Harris chose cremation,

versus purchasing costly plot,
plus an inert headstone
departed realm of the living, her ashes
long since scattered,
linkedin, determined, foregone
within conclave among wind deities,

analogous to mourning doves doleful drone
whipped urning's contents, sans cyclone,
where remains got blown
dispersed along favorite hiking trail
adjacent to Revolutionary War Cider Mill
ghosts of militia long since flown

(situated within Arcola, Pennsylvania),
this sole son January 13 mcmlix,
whom ye birthed, forever alone
within my emotional wilderness
puberty, yours truly tried to postpone
belated gratuity maternal nursing skills

deployed to thwart anorexia,
yet these latter days getting older prone
to reckon eyes, how deathly frightened
ye and papa felt, where grim reaper
got called from me on his telephone

mother intervened ghastly stentorian tone
now, reminiscing tender loving care qualities,
proffered, while warmed by hearthstone,
though I always remained a stranger to thee
as this Norwegian bachelor
signs off from Lake Woebegone.
(Sanatoga, Pennsylvania location)

I luxuriated as inkling of spring 2021
offered sneak preview today
March third as temperatures
reached low fifties Fahrenheit.

Yours truly began reading
one paperback book
(I purchased three),
and absorbed daily dose of Vitamin D
while secretly ensconced
within favorite nook.

This middle aged rue stirring ******
favors warmth, boot haint no stranger to cold,
when dark hen stormy wintry days
eggs hit from Arctic portal enfold
ding Atlantic Seaboard
in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and
brutally sub zero temperatures
from an occasional nor'easter
fiercely gripping hold,

the majority years, sans this prolific
recalcitrant scrivener lived
in various and sundry abode
housed within Southeastern
Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
with 19473 current zip code,
and during my boyhood recall,

how massive ice sheets did erode
the (then) opened expansive farmland,
in preparation for planting time,
where runnels of frigid water flowed
with childish cheeks exposed to glowed
after hours upon
many a green acre got tilled and hoed

despite feeling energized and refreshed
with arms and legs ne'er frozen
aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen
kickstarting thy body electric
experiencing hearthstone nook
designed and built by Christopher Wren
after heading indoors counting fingers
and toes to make sure, I still got ten

soon hearing the chorus of fauna,
and floral kaleidoscope of color
aground or taking wing
thus, upon thawing out thoughts
drifted toward approaching spring,
the season revitalizing
dormant natural inhabitants,

whose excitement (like mine) didst ping
announcing the debut of fecundity
nsync with screeching
from the lizard king
who entered and did break on thru
doors of fame and fortune  
becoming out of this world legendary
rock and roll icon,
nevertheless, he joined twenty seven club
for permanent fling.

— The End —