Tapestry Of Blossoming Senses: A Notation Of Spring While Watching Two Bicyclists Stop By A Pond

Sunlight ajar like in adore, silence
Tipped toads past the blue sky's skinned coolness, the reels
Of rippled bright; untied, flecks of unfenced
Soar scent above pond's edge; one feels like the peals
Of a church bell; cloud-midriffs huff-shuffle
Down wind, unsettled, sun-nicked, as the wasps
Purr “hold the day,” like curled-up coeurs shush full
Of sting-song rinsed by the violet's violet clasps;

Petal soft voices now; nearby lies
Breeze-torqued human touch, heart-sparkled,
Like fist fulls of mint at a well spring; idled
Fog unclumps; after these two, in love, lilies
Bloom, and the first fireflies have suckled
Against evening, after the last bees have wild.

Where Lullabies Go: The Pond On An Early Winter Evening

“Ooh la la,” the mud purrs; “ooh lullay,”
Water bubbles; “turtle-turtle-skin-like-tissue-
Shell-on-fire,” the frogs taunt;
                                                their lovely
Hearts claimed by fog, leaves cackle, “Miss you...”

As they disappear;
                              Voice of the Night cries,
“Waterbugs, boil in rage, the night is long,
The night...”;
                      fish eye the stars with misgivings, “Fish eyes,
Fish eyes, come away,” so goes their song;

And so winter came, climbing scraggly treetops,
Lit by the gray, streaked wind;
                                                up there
In the trees egrets wish for the moon to stop,
And then to slither down, down, further...;

“Little Whitefeather in the stars so bright,”
They kiss their children, “sleep, sleep, this early winter night.”

Copyright © 2006 S. D. Lishan All rights reserved
from Body Tapestries
Dream Horse Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission