Poetry – Page 79

Cool Against the Skin

A faint whisper
from a long summer.

A dark blanket
from a cold winter.

By the sea,

By the hills,

By both, we
feel cool
against
the skin.

Encased within winter,
between the green hills
and
the blanket grey sky
you hear a faint whisper.

You hear a whisper
from spring,
a spring
cool
against
the skin.

He walks constrained by a constant diet.

Every walk past the bakery caused him to whelve his love for carrot cake, doughnuts, and vanilla slices.

All whelved out on a Saturday morning, he purchases all three and sits at home looking at them lovingly.

Quibble with a fish
Such language in the bubbles
Hiding in the depths

in a sea of tired
dropping kitchen utensils
awake and asleep

Mustering courage,
you brace for the blossoming
hayfever sneezing.

From one to many
Grey hairs are multiplying
without permission

Too tired to cook
Dreaming a Dragon visit
A wild barbeque

An explosive cake
Icing all over your face
Guests licking

Lost in fantasia
The early morning fresh fog
No one can see me