So, without further adieu, here you go....
Dickinsonian Poems
1. The passion deep inside me burns—
My light—to see—a Promise
Small the seed the fire churns—
Releasing vision’s memories
2. Ethereal chartreuse beetles fly
In a world—strategically
Their amber wings kiss the sky
And come to earth again
A child comes—the coffin lies
The wooden lid ajar
Her regal mother—a husk inside
She sighs and turns away
No more shall I forget the sun
And see another day
When I am not the only one
Who grasps the potter’s clay
3. A slide of green—
White is the snow
Redwood all a blaze
From the setting sun
Rope keeps us In
The old tree—supports it all
To think a child’s memory
Will allow the Fragrance Sweet
To Hear the screams
And Feel the pains
Of adolescent glory
Forever gone
Spring brings Anew
More children flock
To the tree—of joy
They play And grow
Til dusk overtakes all
Their happiness—Insured
4. Sweet drink the charm; it’s Icy hold
Engulfs my tongue
And effervescent bubbles—scold
My brain that thirsts for more
Ritual of incarceration persists
As the hands of time swipe past
I say I surely could resist
But I don’t wish to stop
Alas my cup is lonely
Another should I fetch
Or stop and cease but only
Tomorrow I’ll decide
5. Concentric Circles of oxygen
Flitting—in the morning sun
Present a millennial Dance
With Dog and Mule—and Toad
6. To write is to live
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