Ken Allan Dronsfield
Sleep with Dead GrassChill in my tired bones
steamy breath follows crispy red apples drop oak firewood stacked, walk the dying fields sleep with dead grass. Colored leaves release spinning down to ground unpacked winter clothes fill dresser and closets, walk the dying fields asleep in dead grass. Autumn's song plays a freshness of spirit feel a harvest solstice life's circle goes round, I walk a dying field, sleeping in dead grass. Unrequited LustAlone in the garden
red and yellow flowers filling the senses with fiery thoughts of you. Walking down a lane, heart bruise inflamed brain deloused again vodka, a cool icy blue. Back into the garden of an unrequited lust; the memories ignite a dark desired rush. Lost within the park cross of pitied shame; talking of the stalking by the fork once again. Drug induced thoughts righteous or false acclaim; whispers of yellow haze in the Asylum once again. Burning Man Diaryblasphemy courted with anecdotal perversity
limitless chatter echoes through the canyon all now weeping at the sight of blind hypocrisy catching the orbs dancing with a butterfly net seeking a peace but tripping through garbage sands stained with the blood from star shards music calms the beast, deep the jungle roars pinnacle of life, enchanted in an icy cold desert. tutelage from shamans moving to a spirit drum casting vows of pious devotional decadence earthy spirited flute touches the heart and soul the burning man tosses ink onto the parchment. Dérive (Drift)Look there, a gold leaf drifts in the breeze
floating down through the now bare trees finally alights upon a bleached white skull that has laid there since last Halloween. coffee pot makes its melodious growl the old cats tail thumps keeping time blueberries sit in a purple stained bowl I wonder why you haven't gotten the mail. thoughts, like the leaf, drift in your mind time passes quicker than it did as a child your little dog barks chasing some leaves coffee in tow, another apple log to the fire. blissful blues waft from the parlor stereo the cat looks up as the horn section plays you return from your walk down the drive the pancakes sound wonderful you know? Light on the desk flickers in the fall wind I write another verse to the poem of us tossing the ink, but it doesn't sound right breakfast awaits, I dérive to the kitchen. Sunday Smileseggs are on the boil
stove hot and ready cat in my old chair toaster takes awhile sausage and taters frying as I dodge spatters of grease coffee pot beeping cat trades for food ready my blue plate sun peeks over trees I smile on Sundays. |
Sonnet of a HeartLike wandering radiance
of an evanescent Moon, some of her was always hidden away from view. Awash within the fire of a red sunset in June, the touch of her hand keeps my heart renewed. My essence she rescued, and none too soon as the wounds are finally healing; the bleeding now ceased. Raising my ravaged soul from the abyss of doom. She's my Angel afire; my spirit now at peace. Walk in shimmering sand, like many candles aglow; Tranquil and blessed on this warm special eve. The ocean waves dancing so quietly now, With her in my life, the reality is like dreaming. By the glow of the Moon, such a fine work of art, we sit holding hands, gazing upon the night. The star's twinkle in time, to the sonnet of our hearts. In the wandering radiance of love's renewed light. Final Gaspimpatiently waiting for twilight's final gasp
late autumn's heated night slowly emerges breezes of lightness bend grasses so soft ducks needing rest land upon the bay. lighting a Camel and watch the smoke rise in a star filled sky of a darkish purple haze sit on the porch as the small waves crest while an airliner high in the sky heads east. citronella is lit as a last mosquito swarms a full moon reaches towards a nervous sky drifting in thought like a misty fog passing in a blink of an eye, candle wicks dance. life brings to boil memories of lost time years spent without in a world full of with cascades of dreams or fantasies live on derelict of mind, hated even unto myself. Rusty Wet Leavesboots of black, whetted by rain
forgotten memory left far behind woodpecker tapping upon birch moss covered granite whispers deer disappear into fern & pine partridge drum in the deep hollow woodland faeries smiling softly path covered in rusty wet leaves gentle breezes calm and serene a bear moves in lumbering grace car horns heard off in the distance peaceful surrender, enchantingly. Gleeful CacklesAdrift upon an old oak leaf
floating down a slow creek small coy and ducks meet waving goodbye to summer. Faeries giggling at twilight gnomes and goblins a fright Autumn solstice frosty white as witches gleefully cackle. Cauldron boils briskly steaming pumpkins dance, wryly grinning sit upon an oak leaf dreaming this time now brings a change. ♢ |
