September 11, 2000

The Shawl

Silk fringes reach the ground
tatty scarlet threads
of splendour past
still shimmer
in the light

Blood red poppies
on a field of night
draped on shoulders
not so young
yet younger than the shawl

the slippery silken swathe
escapes her grasp
sighs in itís journey
to the waiting floor
and gathers at her feet

Firelight paints her body
with crimson blossoms
shadows night dark
caress the curves
he loved to touch

Listening to a memory
she dances slowly
moving to her heartís beat
remembering still the sound
of his guitar.

Posted by Midus at 07:35 AM

September 09, 2000

Why Do You Suppose

The fairies and the elves
the pixies and the gnomes
never take the path
where the stink horn grows

Itís ghostly white in colour
elegant and slim
itís gills are white and frilly
but evil lurks within

If brushed by passing wee folk
putridity explodes
and tiny fingers hold the noses
of fairies, pixies, elves and gnomes!

Posted by Midus at 07:53 PM

Helios: A Cinquain Sequence

Sunset
Helios sails
a golden bowl of light
on Oceanosí ink black depths
Ďtil morn.

wake World
Helios comes
driving a chariot
of dazzling gold across the sky
rejoice

Posted by Midus at 07:34 PM