Forged Relationships – A Poem

Image by Flore W from Pixabay

Forged relationships; framed steel cornices

Rebar cement in a foundation of alliances.

Neighbors, family, friend or acquaintances

That together, help hammer provision’s anvil –

Two iron beams better than one as its candle

If one falls the other carries aloft safety’s angle.

If possible, a threefold alliance a better tether,

Its climbing molten vines a hardened anchor,

In life’s forged crucible of stormy weather.

Kitty Cat – A Poem

Image by ClaudiaWollesen from Pixabay

Feline patrols the alley way,

At first, some thought a stray,

A fluorescent collar in crimson glory.

Street-wise to neighborhood jungle traffic,

Crossing at night in stealth at the crosswalk,

As cars stop for her fashion runway catwalk.

Her midnight charcoal coat flatters,

Her luminescent pink collar choker.

Her bright accessory a token of love

No doubt, from her owners beloved,

Gifting her nine lives of birthdays

As purchase for longevity in Felidae.

Preserves – A Poem

Image by Doreen Corbey from Pixabay

Spirited pectin

Gels the action:

Pickle preserves,

Oeur d’oeuvres,

Chows and Confit

Spreads and jelly.

Pitted fruit meet

The stone remover.

Pickling spice,

Sultry allspice.

Drooling lids,

Funnel bibs,

Pattern paper,

Park apples

In ornate jars

Like antique cars

Wave checkered flags.

Guarded temperatures

Enshrine winter cellars

In sweet homemade jars.

___________

– Inspired by a news report in the metropolitan city where I live, that currently, there is an unprecedented shortage of household canning and preserving supplies (jars, lids, pectin etc.)

Fall’s Scepter – A Poem

Image by jplenio from Pixabay

Autumn; Winter waits every year to see her,

His persona attracted to her warmed temper.

But she arrives before him, often not by much,

And, exits on winged Demeter’s pumpkin patch.

His chivalric quest, epic as that of Sir Gawayne,

He plies her with gifts near the Etruscan plain,

They vanish like ice cubes in late monsoon rain.

He pines in the pines staring at her exiting flora,

Quizzing each falling leaf in his sub-zeroed aura,

Asking, “she loves me…she loves me not…she loves…”

As they smile into snowflakes on his crystal gloves.

He peeks into farmer’s barns scouring their stores,

For gourds, gold trinkets for her cornucopia shoes.

He dreams of times when they could be together,

Cozying on those cold melting nights by the fire.

But alas she always slips away before he arrives,

Her scepter, the key opening seasonal doorways;

Unlocks Winter solstice after she takes her leave.

An Open letter – A Poem

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

In this an open letter

To the invisible darkness

In the realms of spiritual wickedness

In the kingdom circling the cosmological

Offspring of the heavenly Creator

Circling like a lion to see whom to invite as dinner.

Let it be known today…

That we know – by all that has been written

In the sacred texts written

Before our ancestry –

We know...that we are NOT prey.

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