A wafer

-



Ok, make way, O waywardly!

My waywardly wayfarer, who could be fairer? 

Alas, I've got no mirror, could I but mimick, even if as a gimmick... 

Thy terror, O seafarer - who could be fairer? 


A redwood tree spoke all high and mighty

I could try, was I but so dainty...


A wafer for my wayfarer, no hardened biscuit for this seafarer 


Could I but have been fairer...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Untitled #1

-
Image
Part 1 Ye wish to touch the skyline breeze? Yet dash a'rough of the seas' freeze? Your stutter is your rudder! Glaze wood with blubber, not blabber!  In a ship of hope, a common trope Cast high this mast of lie, it's timber a redwood tree! It's shadow a fairy meadow, thine to shine, thine to endow How deprived a'chastity when she did elope.. With her reprived our fares and fairs down this slope... Part 2 Brief is this grief... this lie of relief... now man's prejudice of belief... The clouds darken, my precipice harken... The trees' bark now hardens, in bonsai gardens... Whether you weather these storms or wither to bones... Men walk till hearts leave stones, to cleave if he atones...
Read more

Too Little, Too Late!

-
Image
  Too little, too late... The sky fell when she could tell... All asunder at her blunder, wept it bitter tears of rain and thunder... All ye had were doubts, I tried dearly to dispel... All yer waswas to repel, couldn't ye tell? I had been cast in yer love binding spell, could I but foretell...  Into the bay of shifting sands, lay a heart most sunken... In clouded clarity, not even a drop, never drunken... So I say much to yer dismay, with all my hopes riding a single ray... Tis now too little, too late... I've my date with fate, and so do you anew.. wish thee I never knew, my sinew ye slew, then with avarice and cowardice flew.. So soil these sands with your presence, for it is much akin to yer absence...  Tawhid's the tenant most true! To what fleck did ye flock?
Read more

The Grand Forest of Tomorrow

-
Image
 The Grand Forest of Tomorrow Sandals of stone, till brim and bone... Candles to atone, all grim and alone... All my why's slip away, all shy and bye... Could I but cry, those tears now dry... I look sky high, those fears now fly... Try as I, trouble and truffle, my very lie... Her lunar eclipse scuffled, my son's sun muffled... For my trifle, they all now stifle... A pin to my chin and head held to a rifle! They fail to flail my skin, so weld by lead, none to take his stead!  They pontificate all pompous, but they lay upon the bay of pompeii!  Much to my dismay do I say, you have lost your way, far away and astray... Into Vesuvius' volcanic depth you lept, morality cleft all asunder... Will you still not surrender? Or wish ye' to be her ashtray?
Read more