Magpie 53

Image courtesy Magpie Tales

Paternal grandfather,

Maternal grandmother,

Their crystalline salt shakers,

Have fallen to the ground.

Shattered into many pieces.

Their contents now fill my own,

While the shining fragments,

Have risen to smile upon me,

From the night-time sky.

My Delirium

Walk with me amongst these few written lines,

Tracing the cyclones twist into the realm,

Of the delirious and the divine.

Pay the boat man at his eternal helm,

For efficacious spiraling travel,

To the shore blessed with crooked lonely elms.

Within the forrest the path unravels,

Refuses guidance to the distrait man,

And offers meretricious road’s gravel.

Heed the hearts injunction, hold hope in hand,

Reticence is the falsely winding path,

Over, through, miasmatic, morass land.

Seek equanimity, dismissing wrath,

And alight from precipitous winged dreams,

To reality with a puerile laugh.

The realm of real twists, and spirals, and reams.

                                           K.M. Shear

                                           02-15-11

For my brother...

Submitted to Theme Thursday

River of Life

Pontoon boats and rafts,

Lazily drift through canyon passes,

Cut deeply by time, and,

Rushing currents.

Such is the way we live,

Our lives meandering through temporal flows,

Carved efficiently by past events, and,

Passionate dreams.

Crystalline waters reflect a compassionate sun,

Lax currents drive ambition,

And I am complete, content,

Penning my liquid thoughts.

                                         K.M. Shear

                                         02-02-11

Submitted to Jingle Poetry for Poetry Potluck.