Morning Glory

He climbed the wall to see the stars
a strategy that failed.

He could go out, he knew he could,
though doing so entailed

exposure to a giant gnu and an
agnostic goose that sailed

the atmosphere emitting drear
and gnomic honks.    He railed

against his fate and went out late.
By then the stars had paled.

La Musarde

While swallows bring the evening to this air
and draw the curtains clouding late-day sun,
one blackbird serenades you in your chair.
He celebrates the beauty I have sung
in wintry walks along the cold North Sea.
He sings to you this summer eve in France
and I sit quietly by. I’m half in shade
and all in love, as when I saw you dance
into my sight and heart. I quite agree
he adds cachet as we sit vis-à-vis:
a vesper for provincial promenade.

Troubled Tuesday

A random act of meanness was crossing swords
with an angel of good intentions. Guess who lost.
I am having trouble deciding. They’d had words.
and things had escalated when one tossed
the other’s mother’s name in. Reason blurred.
Swords flashed. I saw the loser’s name embossed
by blade point on his forehead. I strained trying
to read. I failed because the light was dying.

Modern Monday

I was sitting pretty. An angel descended and cursed me.
‘Foul!’ I shouted. ‘Angels must not curse.’
‘In another game,’ said the umpire. ‘Curse sustained.’
I grovelled. When that did not work I smirked.
‘Foul!’ chorused a heavenly host. ‘Wipe off that smile.’
‘Sustained,’ the umpire ruled. I dived in the sea
but, being cursed, I could no longer swim.