“Unless you move, the place where you are is the place where you will always be.”
― Ashleigh Brilliant
“Unless you move…”
The Ice Cream Truck – A Poem
Every evening since Spring thaw, comes at the third hour
Dulcet forgotten notes; the ‘Softee’ ice cream truck’s encore,
Its saucy-syrupy-sundae rhythm seems to cool down the air.
The idea waffled that it might be someone’s sweet ring tone,
But, the sound Nestle–d closer in the ear; its gelato-ed beacon
Cherry/cheery, lilting, fairy tale sprinkles, inviting, swaying,
Reviving memories like yesterday’s creamsicle melting away.
Then comes the joyful chorus: selections made, orders fulfilled,
Happy adults and children drip home their wilting windmills,
To the churning musicale of an impromptu, ice cream carnival.
🎼🎼🎼
Audio, Ice Cream truck melody below, for the scoop on its tempo – in case one wishes to know:
“Why walk…”
Comfy Slippers – A Poem
Early morning rain fluffs yesterday’s duster making new the day,
Quiet, shuffles to the occasional swooshing on the distant highway.
But, hinders not familiarity like well-worn brown comfy slippers
In this new Plymouth; a renewed life, a land of unpainted futures:
Where triumphant arches, offer their shadows like sun umbrellas
Where bridges, markets and parks, once basic necessity’s stores,
Become intimate panoramas; thriving nods to lifestyle La bohème
Opera songs of what it might be like when one is truly, at home.
——–
*Inspired by William Wordsworth’s poem, “Composed Upon Westminster Bridge”
High Summer – A Poem
Soon, leaves fall into winter’s nostalgia snowflakes,
Crystallizing opportunities in drifting sandcastles,
While squirrels pile porticoes of pine nuts to keep,
In cloistered burrows of cornucopia, digging deep,
Storing Summer embers to pyre life in winter fire.
Even as valley shadows in winter’s lion-hearted ire
Are tamed, by three small rocks; a planned empire
Poised and prepped in the Goliath of High Summer.
“…In the beginning”
“…Being alive”
“Being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.”
― Pablo Neruda
Pest Control Day – A Poem
August, the annual spray recital; decks have been cleared
Uninvited characters wait in the wings, unseen unheard.
The human audience crop the stage of household props,
Corralling them in a pile; complete with the requisite aisle.
The stage director proscribes a seven-hour intermission
Wherein, uninvited “guests” are handed script revisions,
To ply their trade in nature’s outdoor theater positions.
After the fuming hiatus of the director’s lavish sprayer,
Human actors reconvening, enter left at the stage door,
To a scene of one last uninvited “guest” from the wings;
Sprinting in her bustling fetching, exo-skeletal coatings,
Shod in multiple pairs of patent leather swag and shoes,
Escaping, without even so much as a polite “thank you,”
From the final act of recital day’s herculean rendezvous.
“…The obstacles”
“Nothing is predestined. The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to new beginnings.”
― Ralph Blum
Kingdom in the Sky – A Poem
Decked out in cloud ruffled taffeta, with the sky for a corset
The Sun, placed in the sky, accepted her divine appointment;
A pillar of fire covering in warm light, the earthly firmament.
Her royal blue gift from heaven’s armory – an ozone scepter,
To veil the blue planet from Sol’s nuclear cataclysmic specter.
The Moon festooned in his patented shade of silver silk robes,
Surveys the edge of his domain beneath the dark edged abyss,
Where he knight’s an aristocracy of stars; our royal torchlight,
Pointing out their assignments on the galaxy’s runway carpet.
Sun and Moon, created royalty; a kingdom in the sky to shine:
The Moon rules the clock ’til dawn; the Sun its own dial hewn,
Their galactic footprints heraldic guardian of the spark sown.
Sun, Moon sovereign lumens daily patrolling the dark turret,
Unzipping the veil of the day’s light…
From the gauntlet solemnity of night.
