winter and spring overlap at the seams—
chilly breezes and warm green dreams!
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Spring blazes color
vibrant verdure lights
the springtime landscape
in blazingly brilliant greens
a fresh flourishing canvas
for parti-colored sparks
of wildly blooming things
Jovial vernal verse
Spring is the green
is the peace
is the breeze
and the blossoms
and the blues
past the buds
to the pinks
on the brink
and the warmth
and the warbles
and the weeds
all the yellows
and the bees
and the buzzing
living branches
and the grasses
and the gardens
and the growing
and the blowing
of the pollens
oh! the purples
and the chirples
of the birds
and the beauty
and the butterflies
in the skies
and the sun—
Springtime’s fun!
The falling is mutual
Light understands the colors of Autumn, and she loves him for it.
Creeping
shorter days seem a little ominous
shadows are becoming autumn’ish
Losing count
Damnit! I binged
again II day
IV life was hard
and so I
VIII my stress away.
O why do I so of X gorge?
Since turning XL
I’ve been extra large.
What I do
altered prose by Terri Guillemets, 2019
from The Man Who Loved Jane Austen
by Sally Smith O’Rourke, 2001, page 53
All-nighter
Mockingbird lives in a tree just outside our door —
and every spring he tells songful bedtime stories
about his ardent quest to find a mockingmaiden —
his lovely talented tales start with once upon a time
then it’s nonstop plot and plagiarism all night long
with the happy ending note sometime near dawn!
Anew
Our bodies let go when it’s time to let go — it’s called death. We ought to let go of the little burdensome things each day — that’s called living.
Inflame
the world we abuse
roasting us like marshmallows
in a fire we lit
Ever finding
Always remember lost, so that you don’t take for granted found.
Why we can’t let go
Regret is the glue that makes grief stick around for a lifetime.
Relentless
Time doesn’t tick
it doesn’t tock —
it flows relentless
it is we who chop
its water with our oars