~
Beneath a dark
and sinister
sky where
stars
hide behind
pumpkin patch wishes
and ghostly
dreams
Ghouls and goblins
cavort on this
final October eve
seeking candy
and other
sugary goodies,
lest a trick
be played
amidst giggles
and grins
As I watch from
eerie front porch
shadows
draped in
faux spider webs,
while my
mind
conjures
images of a
mystical
faraway beauty
Hypnotic eyes,
peering ‘pon
springtime
enchantments in
blue hydrangea
potions of
satin petals
and chiffon
shimmered
driftings
Moon glow
skin, porcelain
touches
in angelic images,
haunting desires
and affectionate
midnight
yearnings
Kisses of northern
destinations,
floating to
waiting lips,
whispering
long distance
promises
and warming
chilly smiles
And I realize
on this night
of mischief and
mayhem,
Styrofoam
headstones
and dry ice fog,
black cats
and skeletons
in doorways…
the sweetest treat
for me
will always
be you
Happy Halloween Soupers
~
Arctic Lovers
dance prism sky
conjure never ending
long sweet nights
faint March blush
ice-fog conceals cool smiles
arctic love
WICKED AFLOAT
He asails the Irish dawn-- avidly tore a hole in yellows
She in dreams --awaits his eyes blue-cast amidst the ice fog-- eagerly searches
Other maddened icebound maidens awaited longships and thrilling iron fellows
Weary of ice and snow -- encompassing thrumming asunder hearts --aborn to escape
Dragonheads emerge through ice clouds-- elate fragile idling maidens awake
Ships escort Thor's exhilerating beckoned iron hammered army
NIGHT WALK
Under crystal stars
Winter exhilaration
Ice fog eats fears
Bears hide from frosty fingers
Splendor of black nights is mine
MERCILESS CITY
Grimy city blocks worn and cold are lost
In rusted steel and roots of permafrost.
Faintly emerging from the gloom hazily misted,
The crane’s spire is a ship’s mast listed
In an ice-fog off Baffin’s distant northwest coast -
A crooked sky-hook reduced to ghost.
Barely seen, swirling in an icy grimace,
A patch of whiter fog hides the sun’s bright face.
The distant cars disappear and are lost without pity,
Trying to escape the cold shoulder of the city.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written today on a January morning in St. Petersburg,Russia.
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