Day: February 14, 2019

The empty glove

The geometry and the art of  longtime love
Beautiful,unfeeling but still charmed
The lamp, the teapot, and the empty glove

From the soil to to clouded sky above
Nature innocent shall us disarm
The geometriy, the art of  moulding love

The horses once rode by and here’s the trough
Rusted with no diamonds  nor dried palms
The lamp, the teapot, and the empty glove

 

What we  have must last.,must be enough
Or we may be in Galilee  becalmed
The  hatred and  the art of  moulding love

Here’s a man, I think I’ll have him stuffed
Keep him  in the yard to evil warn
The lamp, the  hero, and the soulless glove

Nature ripens, lambs will soon be born
Lovers tangle in the thoughtless corn
The know how and the art of  making  love
The lamp, the teapot, and the Nazi glove

 

 

vr

Only the daisies know

The trees made a wavering line
across the edge of the field
and I saw you standing beneath the oak
holding yourself upright just about.
I asked you why you had come
and you said it was only the yellow of the buttercups
that you dreamed of all winter
that had given you strength to walk so far.
the trees gazed down benignly
there was a river at the bottom of the dip
and we used to play there once
when we were children.I don’t know
why we don’t remember the important
feelings and places.Only the daisies know
that we grow where we can.Time shot past
like a flash of lightning,
Will I see you again?
Blue is your colour.I know this.
Grass is softer than stone pavements
And our hearts were not made to last forever,