In A Bottle Part 1.

Drinking hopelessly wet

The petals of the rose drunk

In a bed by the seaside garden 

Ship wrecked love, had now sunk...

To the bottom and rising 

Salty ruins of times wrath

And of washing machine depths

Found a box of treasures, he hath...

Held once when sailing so

Given to the lady on the ledge 

On the shore of sunset awaiting 

Dawn came thrice beyond the hedge...

By the garden, such an earthy patch 

Planted though the jewels of heart 

Many suns melted the time 

Waves of stars saw them apart…

Wolf

There.

Masked dreams floating in her mind 

 Cute time spent as avatar spinning

And awoken by light of existent grind 

Still softly the beating heart winking 

Light sparkled specks, far over there 

Skipping to and fro like fro knew her route 

With adventure lingering like the last pear

And the sweet scent in whispering tree sprout

They spin in a rainbow of uncertainty 

Held by the psithurism of the forest 

And bird of whim singing with density

Perched starry seedlings, their coloured crests

And they gleam 

And do they ever!

And do they ever? 

In dreams. 

Wolf 

Horse.

Sun sets over a water bed

Furry eyes turn to lines

And melting in the song

Of the honey suckle rhymes.

I can walk now and I can run

I can flee the soundless beat

Of beating beating drums

And know now of no defeat

For I am not defeat-able 

I am not to be won

A horse wild with water insides

and a heart so big and strong

I can hear your soul song

And I can hear it  loud

It shouts to me through your words

Your body, your mind cloud

Its ok to flee the bird of feather

Another, Its ok to love 

The strings of the universe tell me

That time is now time to fly dove.

Wolf

Time.

The Owl & To the same 

When cats run home and light is come,

And dew is cold upon the ground,

And the far-off stream is dumb,

And the whirring sail goes round,

And the whirring sail goes round;

Alone and warming his five wits,

The white owl in the belfry sits.

When merry milkmaids click the latch,

And rarely smells the new-mown hay,

And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch

Twice or thrice his roundelay,

Twice or thrice his roundelay;

Alone and warming his five wits,

The white owl in the belfry sits,

Thy tuwhits are lull'd I wot,

Thy tuwhoos of yesternight,

Which upon the dark afloat,

So took echo with delight,

So took echo with delight,

That her voice untuneful grown,

Wears all day a fainter tone.

I would mock thy chaunt anew;

But I cannot mimick it;

Not a whit of thy tuwhoo,

Thee to woo to thy tuwhit,

Thee to woo to thy tuwhit,

With a lengthen'd loud halloo,

Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwhit, tuwhoo-o-o.

Alfred Tennyson

That Raccoon That Raccoon Part 2

To the door I’d skipped

To see where he had gone

A flash of a furry tail, into the laundry

Through that hole in the wall.

…

I slept rather well that night

But rustled ‘tween my sheets

I dreamt of my mysterious little friend

And when we would again meet.

Woken by the song birds

Sun through the window a trickle

Sandman in my eyes, he was

What is this feeling so fickle?

Rubbing the dust from my face

I saw perched to my right

The book open at once upon a time

It must have been a dream last night

“Once a upon a time” ?

I thought as I poured my cup of tea

What a funny thing I felt

I was sure I met him and he had met me?

In the garden I seated

Amongst the viney greens 

To start a tale once told in time

‘Tween the moon and the sunlight seams.

Eyes sewn to the dawn

T’ward the end via the middle

When a furry bit of furr flew out

From a page marked with a riddle

The wind softly whispered

In the tree a rustle of leaves

I sat quiet as quietly could be

It was a game of hide and seek

Looking up and all about

Something took me by surprise 

There he was sitting propped

Amongst flora in diguise

Reading on together 

We sat in the story swimming 

Dancing in the paragraphs

Afloat the unknown beginning.

> Wolf 

That Raccoon That Raccoon Part.1

He got inside he did,

Tried to swat him with the broom.

He smiled at me cheekily,

As he scampered to my room.

How did he get in here? 

Did he come through a hole in the wall?

Maybe the crack in the corner?

Or did I leave an open door?

The chase was on, 

On the desk I did hop.

All the books on the floor they fell, 

He squealed as I did; to no stop.

I opened my eyes, 

To a silent sound.

Where did he go? He’d fallen motionless, 

I 'm scared as I looked around.

I kept myself sitting,

On the vintage wooden table.

I had to wait for my little friend, 

So I began to read a fable.

It was all that was left, 

All the rest had fallen off.

Stranded I sat and cleared my throat,

Uh humm, uh humm I did cough.

I hoped he wouldn’t notice, 

That I was trying not to notice him.

But he knew very well what I was doing,

And he stayed silently dim.

With a sighing realisation,

That I’d have to have some patience. 

The first line read, then the next,

A chapter I’d made an acquaintance.

With a slight turn of the eye,

Saw my friend peep his nose.

Still I kept on reading,

I knew now he was hiding under my clothes.

Chapter after chapter,

I found myself lost.

In the pages, between the lines,

I forgot my legs, and they’d turned to knots.

As I shook my limbs,

And stretched out my book arm.

I found my little friend sitting staring,

On the bedside next to my alarm.

He said hey there,

With eyes big and round.

He tilted his head as if hinting,

Why did you stop reading, I liked that sound.

I smirked with a smirk,

And he smirked right back.

I read on with the tale smiling, 

This creature has warmed, my voice had a knack .

We sat with silence,

Only with word of this book.

He sat over there on the ledge,

Me on the table tucked in a nook.

As my tired eyes lulled,

His did too.

It was enough for tonight, 

The owl was outside in a coo. 

Paws tucked under his chin,

I moved and stepped on the chair.

Looking his way wondering,

Will he run? He is giving me a mighty stare.

The carpet touched my toes,

Goosebumps layered my back from the cold.

He sprung from the bed, down the hall; 

Even though there was more of the story to be told.

 -Wolf