Sunday 26, 2012 Sunday Whirl

Wordle #71

The Gift

Day grows late

Dusk meets

The dark of night

I search for your trace

You are the operator

That links past and present

The essential recipe

For communication

Written with a pencil

Or drawn with a piece of charcoal

On scrape of paper

Left near the fence

Now all is forgiven

A chain of roses

Or empty words

Heavy with sweet scent

Of heartache

My gift to you

Monday July 11, 2011 Magpie Tales

People of Chilmark Thomas Hart Benton

Magpie Tales

End of Day

The clock stuck the hour

People jostling for position

Finding places in the boats

Flexing their muscles

Pushing and shoving

The game begins

Setting the sails

The journey into darkness was near

Land of dreams and nightmares

The pale rider waits in the dark

He smiles

Perhaps in numbers

They can defeat him

But he always wins

The rules were drawn

In the long ago

In the morning you will

No longer be counted

The score will be posted

Your Mother will grive

It’s just the way

The game has always been played

For the people of Chilmark