Wishing Well

bunchcut clumps of frozen roses
bundled tight with severed hoses
lay at rest beside a broken/wingèd
horse upon a token
buried deep beneath a well
somewhere in its wat’ry cell
reflects a beam of fortune calling
stalling, standing ten feet tall
against the wall, much to bestow
a tiny glist’ning, far below

in a note of candid calling
bawling of an issue, wrote
what comes as coming standard
wish you naught a fret, refraining gloat
a stubborn goat, a sour day’s bet
will ‘ere the morning hour be met
and call you shall with all in hues
this blinded, baited, blessèd news

Copyright L.M. 2007.

Advertisements

Soon

I have a system
and for that, I’m relieved
I’ll do my best
I’ll be a friend
worry not for me, no
I’ll be alright again soon

I’m glad I met you
yes for that, I’m grateful
we’re similar
your words ring true
back to before, now
and I’ll be alright again soon

it’s already better
and for that, I’m glad
I feared the worst
but you’re a friend
and when I pick myself up
dust myself off
and look back at you
I know before long
I’ll be alright again, soon

      

Copyright L.M. 2007. (Dedicated)