"loams" poems
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Teems in the whirling grasses,
Fire in the daisies, littlest suns
Becoming patchworks of stars
Above the hallowed loams of soil,
The black ants shine in the light,
Spiders construct their silk laces,
Line by line as the wind unweaves
In the crepes, even in round dew,
One can see the globe of waters,
Watching itself in minnows' eye,
The insects, fly, iridescent gods
Floating sparkles, burst, buzzing
Wings, the stems of green ferals
Flowers flagging them into grace,
With chalice, tasting cup in blood
Of the petals, to thirst and quench
Ambrosial nectar, freshness, new,
Sweet in the tendril vines embrace,
The songs of colours, lowly birds,
Even higher, sing, above, choirs
Of the knarled and ancient twig
Branches that flame into briars
With leaves of yellow, feathers
So fair, water cresses in pools
Of the meadow and the violets
And buttercups spun, painted
With splattered, arts, confetti
Whirl, world in meadow sun.
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
Last night I dreamed
In great green valleys.
You and I
laughed and dashed across
a trickling stream
of cool diamond water
lapping
over smooth polished stones.
on the other side
we dried our bare feet
on the soft warm grass,
carpeted and mossy.
laughing we raced up
the sloping loams of
the earth’s fresh surface,
Emerald green in the setting sun.
Atop the ridged crest
we gazed into the horizon,
eye-level with the clouds
that had pinked over
like soft,
tender flesh.
I felt your smile,
your presence,
breathing
somewhere
inside of me.
crying out like children
we flew down the grassy slope,
crossed again the eternal stream
and ended somehow
inside some cozy cottage,
warm and safe.
and suddenly we were alone
and I kissed you
and that’s when I woke up
and outside the dawn was just graying
to reveal a thick fog,
settling over the land.
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 11:36 AM UTC
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Teems in the whirling grasses,
Fire in the daisies, littlest suns
Becoming patchworks of stars
Above the hallowed loams of soil,
The black ants shine in the light,
Spiders construct their silk laces,
Line by line as the wind unweaves
In the crepes, even in round dew,
One can see the globe of waters,
Watching itself in minnows' eye,
The insects, fly, iridescent gods
Floating sparkles, burst, buzzing
Wings, the stems of green ferals
Flowers flagging them into grace,
With chalice, tasting cup in blood
Of the petals, to thirst and quench
Ambrosial nectar, freshness, new,
Sweet in the tendril vines embrace,
The songs of colours, lowly birds,
Even higher, sing, above, choirs
Of the knarled and ancient twig
Branches that flame into briars
With leaves of yellow, feathers
So fair, water cresses in pools
Of the meadow and the violets
And buttercups spun, painted
With splattered, arts, confetti
Whirl, world in meadow sun.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
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Teems in the whirling grasses,
Fire in the daisies, littlest suns
Becoming patchworks of stars
Above the hallowed loams of soil,
The black ants shine in the light,
Spiders construct their silk laces,
Line by line as the wind unweaves
In the crepes, even in round dew,
One can see the globe of waters,
Watching itself in minnows' eye,
The insects, fly, iridescent gods
Floating sparkles, burst, buzzing
Wings, the stems of green ferals
Flowers flagging them into grace,
With chalice, tasting cup in blood
Of the petals, to thirst and quench
Ambrosial nectar, freshness, new,
Sweet in the tendril vines embrace,
The songs of colours, lowly birds,
Even higher, sing, above, choirs
Of the gnarled and ancient twig
Branches that flame into briars
With leaves of yellow, feathers
So fair, water cresses in pools
Of the meadow and the violets
And buttercups spun, painted
With splattered, arts, confetti
Whirl, world in meadow sun.
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC
Butterfly and Rose
Out of his cocoon,
Tiptoed a butterfly.
Young and naive,
He soared through the sky.
Up and down
And through the canopies
He flew towards
The most beautiful sight.
Caught up in the charms
Of Rose’s soft petals,
He rushed to touch her,
Unaware of her thorns.
But alas,
There wasn’t a way
That she could tell him
About her deadly thorns.
She watched as he fell
Into the loams,
The ephemeral love in his arms,
Inevitably to wither away.
Feb 16, 2025
Feb 16, 2025 at 3:26 PM UTC