Never Be Seen This Way …

Catching my traffic-snarl’d eye

As I queue for a place on the road

Between a rock and a hard place

I spy, beyond a Victoriana municipality fence,

A tall, slow-motion sky rocket eruption

Of a graceful firework tree.

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It tumbles, turning in gentle stir-by breezes,

Teasing towards its arboretum lake-surfaced twin:

Pale bright green, every sparkle that unwinds

From the centre, arcing out,

Each to its own Nirvana-webb’d route.

Swinging to and fro on

God’s invisible parachute cords.

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In a moment the traffic will move me beyond:

This tree will never be seen this way again.

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Let’s Not Forget …

“I believe,” she whispered –

Turning, smiling, naked as love

And saints-be-tempted desirable –

“That we are all free to believe

What we want to believe,”

The words of an earlier wiser fool.

Her voice is filled with

November-smoke warmth,

Saved-summer-honey sweetness.

“But we both know, don’t we,

That when the delight-filled education-explorations

Of seduction-seduction seductions

Have passed;

When consummation’s  firework-glorious games

Are familiar as history,

That the road between winters

Will still be there – beyond the curtains and doors

We thought were finally closed –

Waiting patiently for us … so,

Just sayin’, let’s not forget

Where we left our boots eh?”

 

Bonfire Night

Silver-guy goblin,

Dark circus bomb-djinn

With the hammer-spark blues

In him rock ‘n’ thunder shoes

Puttin’ the beat down

With firework eruption feet

Across the roofs of Once-Treason Town

Every house on every street.

 

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