Poems

a toucan proudly shows his bill
(what some might call a beak)
it is his most impressive skill
and worth more than a peak
one glance, and you will understand
that few can do what toucan can

Author notes: image from bath.ac.uk

some are flip and some are smart
some wanna be state of the art
some still have buttons, and some fold!
where is the dial? I'm growing old

morning sun is on my skin
ocean keeps the beat
crashing waves -- an ageless din
sand beneath my feet
seagull cries up in the sky
sees a lonely sail
daily walk to say goodbye

all to no avail

Whitecaps, eager, race to shore --
couldn't get there any faster;
sand attempts to keep the score...

Shells of pearl and alabaster
dot the wild, abandoned coast,
laid bare as an ossuary,
and the wind, a mournful ghost,
wails...

Indifferent, the waves hurry.

no need building, brick by brick
proper facing does the trick

where violets lie
and roses obstruct
where tulips deny
that poppies are plucked
where dandelions roar
and daisies' days end
that there -- is your core
bouquet with no friend

orange, difficult to rhyme
in the best of circumstances
oh, if I but had a dime
surely then, my slim finances
would improve, as would my courage
even when standing within bow range

The Atlantic sends raw spray
at the lighthouse off Gibraltar
"On your knees!", it roars, "and pray
on Poseidon's sacred altar!"

But the worshippers decline
came there for the salt and brine

Author notes: image from nytimes.com

sand everywhere - the landmass -- is buried underneath
the desert is an hourglass God's chosen to bequeath
grains blow in each direction, the hourglass' on its side
and time -- respects perfection, continues to abide

Author notes: image from cnbc.com

window acting as a prism
drapes refusing to engage
here I am in my own prison
I admit, a well lit cage
there is nowhere left to hide
I may have to go outside

Author notes: image from facebook

Daedalus, incredulous
argues with his son
Icarus, though rigorous
wants to catch the sun
chariot that carries it
and Apollo, too
way up high, high in the sky
blue, so very blue

Icarus, you're vigorous --
Daedalus says then --
but I balk, you're not a hawk
no, you're but a man
and the sun will singe, my son
you will crash and burn
your life flashes, then your ashes
mortuary urn

son would rather ignore father
feathered as a bird
hates that Minos, who's as mean as --
well, I'm sure you've heard --
he says: dad, we have been had
and I have to try
tests the wings, and pulls some strings...

then takes into the sky

childhood dreams -- the baby crescent
luminous and incandescent
swarmed by starry fireflies -- day will come she'll realize
they're as distant as the moon, and that day, it'll come too soon
always wishing she was still sitting on that windowsill

Author notes: image from freepik.com