How recently the world appeared to me The way you see it looking back at you. Nasty worms made holes in what was true. A snake creeped up the ancient apple tree. Valid reasons were deceptive then. The one who understood most turned away And took a bite which stopped what he would say. Those worms chew through the tongues of mortal men.
Perhaps that tale’s a metaphor. I know. Perhaps another snake will shortly show.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar. Bjorn is hosting with the theme of metaphor. I might have got carried away with the metaphors in this one, because I am no longer sure what I was trying to say.
While algae's greening in the swamp And ogres in the forest romp, The villagers would have a dance, A masquerade, and take a chance Some ogre with a fairy might Pretend to waltz then start a fight.
They've never liked each other much Although I’ve heard they sometimes touch. I’ve even heard they sometimes kiss, But I'd doubt all reports of this. There’s rumors, too, they even love-- What can these fools be thinking of?
Our dance may tease some fears away And help some find kind words to say. It's safer meeting through disguise When gazing in each other's eyes. They won’t forget what each has done, But from the present, who can run?
We'll have that dance, no matter what. True, worried folks must worry, but Tonight we'll take a chance on change. Let something, somewhere rearrange, Then, whether they like it or not, They'll get the love they've always got.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar. I will be hosting with the theme of descriptive detail. I hope the description of the swamp and the dance fits.
There’s reasoning that wants to go nowhere. It circles back to check if I am weak To tempt me with its nonsense, if I dare, And if I don’t suggest that I’m too meek Or impotent to take what it would seek. I walk and hope each step leads to the goal. I like those geese, obedient and whole. I like the trees who don’t have much to say. I like contentedness without control Unlike this devil circling me astray.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar. I am hosting and we are continuing with the poetic form, the dizain. This is a poem with 10 lines, 10 syllables per line and a rhyme pattern: ABABBCCDCD. Come join us!
If I could only wash my age-soaked heart The way I do these clothes in this machine And trust in thirty minutes it’d be clean. I’d likely try it once or twice to start. What soap would do the best to tear apart What’s good from what has grown with time too mean? I’d make it cleaner than I yet have seen And wash it everyday - if I were smart.
These quarters are too little I confess. For payment ancient angels might want more Since no one gives forgiveness out for free, But then came dreams of lucid mystery. They weren't what I thought I was looking for Yet I felt clean enough to let them bless.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar where Jilly is hosting and the form is the sonnet with enjambment. I hope there are some lines above that represent enjambment.