i like a shine - fall '98

Inspiration: the phone company offers $20 all you can eat after hours - ?what's a writer to do for discipline...

synonomous buttocks

tonight at the reception she offered a sign
edged with dreams of honey and ginger - something divine.
and maybe an ass for which, apparently,
there is no worthwhile synonym except buttocks - you'll see.
Certainly nothing to compare with "tumescent".

instead

I wanted to call and hear your voice
to ring that phone in louis' room
to fetch that tea freshly brewed
and cuddle in the corner.

but I decided to eat instead
to clean out the fridge of things long dead
to mop the floor - i like a shine -
and imagine you reflected.

the other day

list too long
day too short
not enough time
to do it all.

list will grow
day will shrink
clock will tick
and then you'll call.

just checking

marvel at the cleverness of the trees dropping their petticoats,
reflect on the travels of geese,
observe the cheeks of squirrels stuffed with nuts,
or just be. silent.

early bird plays hopscotch with fear

There came a
"word in your ear"
while you were here
chirping your tune
in synch with the loon
in time with the moon
but a moment too soon.

Or just in time? computers they rhyme and they whine.
do they find? wish they'd wine. and dine.
or wind.
down.

A bird in the ear
in the morning as dear?
makes the day clear
plays hopscotch with fear.

oh for a voice

Day is done,
the train doth run,
the birthday planned,
mamma's paper canned
I trust that's alright
At least for tonight...

samosa currency

stuffed sitting here
yet head so clear
alexa's nose is in a book
i wait for a word
in my ear.

happy as this day is long.

now i'm gonna run around the lake
and try not to see a snake
though if a do i'll hit the brake
but won't be broken
just soft spoken.

franklin's turtle

dance,
do sit-ups,
and clean the kitchen
before "no sweatshirt" sweets

some are kids
and some are mothers
behind the house
hover others

long on the hills

trust so deep
to fall asleep
above a rising tide
known to creep

at the edge

Chill night is clearing. Mists which hid the landscape a scant hour ago gather for final farewells in a cluster over the river. Now dispersing, disappearing in the new morning warmth of the sun, they are ghosts and spirits taking leave for the day, relieving our imaginations for a time, unburdening our spirits. Trees bask in the new heat -- the lively maple near the road is edged in blood-red petticoat, revealing passions unsuccessfully hidden by the calm green dress.

today's air is laden with moisture, a turgid Indian summer day, heavy with the scent of apples and loud with the frantic buzzing of bees and wasps seizing opportunities. Zucchinis swell and the acorn squash glows. A golden brochade edging creeps up the skirts of the riverbank, mists drift lazily in a maze of green and orange petticoat.

a great honking, jostling flock unseen in the black cloud above, no red or blue flashing beacons to warn of their passing, no radar screens to tell them which way they ought to go, but their noisy passage cut a direct line south, no drifters here, no one dawdles or veers off the path, everyone follows the leader and that's OK.

Two woodpeckers busy at work this morning, doing a topological survey of the crabapple, but the beetles and bugs on that fruit-bare tree were not to their taste. I wonder if I could interest them in a kitchen floor? Plenty there for them. After tasting winter in the area, Oliver found the butter last night, perhaps adding a millimeter of insulation, and then retired to his new bed in the corner, the best in the house if it weren't for the clouds of dirt that rise each time he lies down

A hint of crisp apple, high air, infused greens poised for the march through fall colours, all touched by a fleeting, golden morning sun. A reminder of what lies ahead, before the heavy august cloud and mists move in, obscuring these metamorphoses, shrouding the future.

shortsweet

you and i -
we do both
short and sweet, and
long and slow.

?gotta run.
just say hello.

?stay a while.
hold that smile.

peel if you are drinking cider

peel in any case
you look good that way
or dressed to meet the world
or just for quiet play

what to do with a tune

how small to let me carry it
recipe cards might do.
people would wonder ?what's cooking
and ?whose invited which few

how big to let me sing it
more likely us more likely wing it
while people wonder
?would they

Copyright Notice © 1998 peter gillies and margaret barker