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Sylvan Hope
tones of wooded sprouting leaves
sing the measure of the trees
they festive lift, and rustle, clap,
or silent sway, filled with sap
gorged and sated, a jewel they glow
the color of the sign to go
full of chlorophyll, the grass
screams of life as through stained-glass
filling up with greenhouse gas
while oxygen to us they pass
surrounding us with vital health
vegetation is eart...
Wednesday 31st March 2021 7:21 pm
Tickled Green
a little baby finger tickled
the large pot-belly,
but the heavy sleeper slept on,
out like a rock
the giggling tot
mischievously said, ‘again!’
wiggly-wormy fingers dug in,
but the loafer was idle,
simply a fat lump.
it’s well known, little kids don’t give up,
and indeed, not this little tyke
who thought the slumberer was playing,
pretending to ignore
with renewed resolve, the b...
Sunday 14th March 2021 2:22 am
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