their azure eyes
faded into the yawning sky
finding home at last
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#096: 19 lines to build a habit
good intentions like villanelles
resurfacing with regularity
sometimes switching syntax
sometimes selecting uniformity
#095: midweek, at the office
an open tin of water colour paints
arrives on a communal table one day
causing fingers to crawl
over water-cut QWERTY keys
scale the scalding glass of a fresh cup of tea
and survive the plight of staple attacks
before leaping into crimson’s near-empty pot
over-zealous on love, willing to take their shot
#094: almost finished
when the finish line is so close
mind becomes five day old flowers
ready to return to the soil from which it came
dehydrated petals, a few still vying for life
through their might they try
others leaning languid in cloudy vase water
daring the observer to drink
or call it quits- the dirt is calling them home
but how will I, after this show-play
how and where will I return?
#093: ’til aurora
whether by chance or the sun
really had used it’s last call to dial her body
from it’s after-dinner nap
her just-awoken eyes caught
the evening sun being strong-armed away
by the heavies:
sun-buster 1 and 2
dressed head to toe in puffy grey suits
“don’t worry love, go back to bed”
their frail attempt met with only contempt
as her pupils remained fixed, keeping witness
as the veil between her and her star grew in thickness
“I’ll be out tomorrow, I promise”
the sun shot its orangepurples through the fog
“til aurora” she replied
and then came the night.
The LERiAL 