Rhyming Poetry

Shallow Water

You surmise depth is not mine
for reasons of your own.
Perhaps my thoughts are simple,
a single thread, hand-sewn.

To see my shifting riverbed,
do I seem but shallow water?
Beware of how you cross these waves,
for I am Poseidon's daughter.

I will not make the naive leap
to taste your tempting bait,
for most lures have sharp hooks
and most hooks decide one’s fate

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with the shadows of the swamp,
the heavy air embraces budding leaves.
The mossy earth, the stalwart stones
and twigs set out in tidy sheaves.

with the trunks of ancient trees,
the weightless feather caresses a newborn green.
An ocean of oats, and rolling waves of wheat
awash in a summery-soft sheen.

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Free-Form Poetry

Times of Light

The sun and moon merge.
Their fused glow caresses the water,
forming glittering, bubbling diamonds.

It is neither day nor night,
a birthing of darkness,
a suspension of light.

Hanging heavy on the horizon,
the fading vermillion sun retreats.
He readies for sleeping
as the moon struggles upward,
there to glow within
her cradle of stars.

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Black Magic

The smooth fur, so black it is blue.
The spots invisible, a leopard cloaked.
Soundless, bounding through trees.

His breath is warm.
The air is cold.
His eyes smoulder,
flashes of emerald fire.

Quietly stalking
beneath moonlight clouds,
he finds a maid upon a throne.

Her hands beckon him forward,
as her eyes seek out the humanity
concealed within the flesh of a beast.

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Pegasus and the Black Unicorn

Pegasus, horse of the sky
with flowing, flaxen mane.
A freedom creature.

Benatar, horse of the earth,
clothed in shimmering black satin,
armed with an obsidian lance.

Pegasus strikes rock, demanding an answer.

“My tempestuous prince, I cannot follow you.
The clouds of the sky do not open for me.”

>>> <<<

The World is My Orange

Tender gossamer petals
hover, glide and spiral,
forming disorderly bits of confetti
atop the scorched earth.

After-blossom buds
bear blistered, wedge-shaped fruit
sheltered by layers of pitted skin
and bitter-tasting ivory flesh.

The passing of a sharp blade
separates the whole into halves.
Zesty, sticky, sweet and succulent.
The world is my orange.