14 12 18

November 14, snow began to fall
Red sweater, sleeves too long; black pants too short
Three holes in his worn out shoes, a large pair
of frames on his snow clad nose. Ruffled hair
He stared at the closed gates and laughed like an
idiot. She just agreed to his dinner date.

When Diana rested and Apollo
slept, the sky was dark with no stars in sight
He would polish his dad’s black leather shoes,
straighten the bow tie on his penguin suit
Midnight, his hunchback mother would ask, “who
is she? this girl you are off to see?”
 Continue reading "14 12 18" 
14 12 18

A Few –

the first two poems are written in iambic pentameter and are ekphrastic poems!  although the second poem is a little off nearing the end.

The River to Camelot Carries --
(on John William Waterhouse's Lady of Shalott)

Sun kissed locks weaving, ocean eyes weary
White, and gingerly, she sings a sad song,
sweet. Somber notes, to Camelot they bring
It is there that fate does not let her reach
There the red-cross Knight will hold his lily
He says she's lovely, when they do meet
Yet that Lady of Shalott, she's asleep.

Continue reading “A Few –”

A Few –