"milkwood" poems
a butterball sun,
sits low in the
morning sky.
as the weekend peloton, whizzes on by and down
the hill.
in the council's headland park precinct,
the illegal nomads,
are being rousted
and evicted from, their overnight, purlioned and picturesque views.
the early fishermen,
in their dinghies,
dot the teal sea and
the sail boats,
are racing out further,
white sails, against blue sky.
in our pond,
the koi leap in a frenzy,
trying to catch,
the itty, bitty, midgey bugs.
and the old blue tongue,
comes out to settle on his
rough log .
the bees work tirelessly,
from flower to flower.
as the blue wrens,
gossip and preen,
in their lilac bower
the dragon flies dart
about in distraction.
while over at
the milkwood patch,
you can see the caterpillars,
are busy decimating,
leaf after leaf.
i sit on the porch,
coffee in hand.
newspaper forgotten
on the side table.
slowly taking this beauty all in.
as the aroma of eggs, bacon and pancakes, drift from within.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Dylan Thomas boozed
the great belly of his muse
drowned after Milkwood.
May 10, 2012
May 10, 2012 at 9:48 AM UTC
In the still of the night
under a milkwood sky
Translucent echo's rebound
of my distant thoughts
Sending images producing a kaleidoscope of memories.
Here in my videodrome
i watch a cinematic epic spanning a lifetime.
By David
2013 (All rights reserved)
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
There's a picture on my bedroom wall or it may be in my head of a field in which I'll lay me down and have 'under milkwood ) read to me.
'Bible black' takes me back to the firedog in my grandma's
home
to Sunday school when the swimming pool was closed
to the other school sometimes
The clock falls into disrepair
the arches drop
the field
no longer there
the picture blank
the good bye kiss me
why me
thank you
things merge and mix
but no one and no
euphoric recollections
Then I'm back
a hiccup
or ***** up ?
coffee's up and that's
what counts.
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC