The earths rarest plane. Hardly a mound.
Ploughed seams that stretch past level.
Bound by concrete, submariner scripture.
Views from the mild undulations mimic.
The molehills unflattering comparison.
Mild subliminally, in politeness rumoured.
Candy coat intolerance doesn’t sweeten.
The land in mercy to the oceanic caster.
Figure of eight motions, buoyant banter.
Memorise the pretty candour. Lofted life....
The synapse scraper. Treasure binder!
Odd for a reason, not even enough stuff.
Abacus beads clink as moneys lossless.
Toys for frustration, causality distraction.
This number is clean, uniquely thirteenth!
Too rooted for squared, no random pairs.
Not dissection refraction, a remainder,
Enabler. Pink hues, perplex synesthesia.
Symbolic and lean, a cursed indivisible.
Snuck in through the side step, beaten,
No menu digestive, nested, sure footed.
No blustering fluster. Invented clustered.
Manic ballerina, blessed stage of Athena. I’ve seen her.
About the Creator
Paul Beckett
I’m a writer, horologist & joy filled explorer. Reality to me is plastic. I’m fascinated with time, quantum physics, analogue and fashion.
My writings at least 69% autobiographical, often 99%
Fav:Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams- S.Plath
Keep reading
More stories from Paul Beckett and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.