Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Old oak cannot easily flex

Ain't gonna fake it as white seagulls fly are
flown into black vultures that turn on high.

Seen a caterpillar blue reaching also for sky
back legs stiff poised, feet in a grasp unmet,
poignant beads seeking, widely, all the rest.

(A butterfly poses in yellow and black for
a red-headed girl born to speak to it best)

Better use new hickory, old oak cannot easily flex
when quanting a punt across the cold morning dew.


  1. Gerry,

    Yes, A comment is most certainly merited, as per usual:)

    An experiential thread with savy and years added to this quaint piece of writing. A master at work, rather than a veneer scripted over a beer-mat.

    Best wishes,

  2. Well, I am no stranger to beer-mats either, but usually host a wine glass. Cheers.

  3. Good one... enjoying the poems... cheers!