Choice of Words
The words have chosen not to lie still
Frozen in time and history,
Not to conform to some printers will,
But instead to frolic and gambol.
Teasing, cajoling, near a windowsill;
Like a cat to a bird on the other side,
When days of rain seem to fulfill,
Dreams of a hunt with no misery
Of the hunter's unsuspecting thrill.
Trading Places
Wisdom, they say belongs to
The owl, a creature of night
Glaring in the dark, to hunt to
Rummage to hoot its songs.
How can a stranger fit into this
Scene? clearly only by bending
The light, making wisdom her
Own, and trading skirts for feathers
Tomatoes on every plate
Kiskadee - a magic 9 poem
Kis kis ka deee! kis kis ka deee!
This song is their name.
It is not just for me,
The kiskadee bird sings this song,
In the morning you see.
It is because birds open the day,
With bird song, whatever it maybe.
Because it is their aim,
Calling in the daylight for you and me.
Kiskadee © gillena cox 2024
Wed In Red - a magic 9 poem
She a bride wore red
She didn't conform to the day
Of white veil that led
To travails of aisle and crown
What a pity her friends all said
They are so beautiful together
But their vows were civil-ly read
She let them have their say
Yet she the bride wore red
Wed In Red © gillena cox 2024
Quadrille Dark
Wake up, get up, nudges my muse
I will when the dark recedes,
When birdsong clears morning sky
Even though the waning gibbous moon,
still shines
How is it to the rising east
This morning's cloudscape is so
Ominously dark?
Wake up get up!
Quadrille Dark © gillena cox 2024
