Poetry – Page 41

Roses + Bees = Naps

dew drop rose petals
bees buzz for the sweet nectar
naps in the roses

Watery windscreen
A deserted dark fall drive
Freedom at the wheel

I am moving towards you.

Suburbia moves on as farmland relaxes my vision.

A distant mountain range and trees in the foreground; I float between the two.

The dreamy afternoon light flickers between the trees as the train moves towards you.

Walking through the office door
Me, out there in the swirling autumn leaves
Inside, a new mask for today

Trading nature and her beauty
for the chance to find meaning in a title
I feel the wind in my hair

Nature followed me
wind and leaves moving
Bewildered colleagues

Tea Cosy warm thoughts
what could have been fades away
Sprawled empty tea cups
pieces of music vibrate
happy memories building

We begin to slow in Autumn as the days shorten and the nights lengthen.

Salads turn to casseroles, and coffee turns to rum.

We find our cosy corner, a stack of books, and turn day after day into night.

When the rains come, we wear our favourite socks; we slow down.

Too much red and yellow
blazing sun on the canvas
chunks of paint melting

The spectre of burning canvas
paint strokes are inevitable
Embers fall from the old easel

Time for the sun to appear
smouldering fire of paint and canvas
The painting comes to life

morning frosty grass
barefoot walking to the fence
my feet are stained green
tip-toeing to the kitchen
embracing my black kettle

Happy World Poetry Day!

And I will find him
covered in sauteed onion
dancing with the leeks
a potato and leek man
my only tabby kitteh

As the season ends
I think about the kisses
you place upon me