Are you searching?
For the lucky clover
Or is it inherent roving
From which you suffer
I presume your days are planned
Seems you’re destined to uncover
Some mystery quite grand
You insatiable lover
This morning I saw
Three of your little babies
Trapping me in a state of awe
Whilst speaking the vernacular of sages
Quite succulent is this weed
And it stains your teeth red
To his brother, who agreed!
The fawn colored one said
A third let out a squeak
And seemed to nod his head
The morning still damp and bleak
An ant procession dismantles a scrap of bread.
Now they voraciously chew
Implying dandelions
Is to them a taste quite new!
I captivated! Lean on a post of iron
Hopping around now
Seeming to play a game of tag
Frolic they, so agile! Wow!
Stomachs bearing a telltale sag.
Sniffing the air
Somehow, her approach they detect
With not a moment to spare
In a line, from my presence they eject
Chasing after mother
Of them, was the last I saw!
Except trails one next the other
Preserved in mud, rabbits paw.
About the Creator
Stieve Fernandez
Hello am a 36 year old Jamaican national three years into my journey of creative writing
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Midsummer
I was told I am a wordsmith But also that I am the third smith For came before twice My avatar who captivated souls his words with. So as I drown your ears In a melody of serenity I hope to bind your fears To be lost for all eternity. When the air of morn Is pierced and torn By the sun’s javelin rays. It is pure ecstasy Your figure lying next to me I’m complete till the end of days. But woe is me that sojourn In a love that’s but lost. Is it that reckless robin? Has on you this love juice cast? The same that from Hermia stole Lysander’ love So tell me, goddess above On what fortunate being hast fallen thy love? And to me his secrets tell For employing them I may quell. And rebuke from me thy scoff. If only I had known To where love’s arrow flown. O’er valleys low and hills high. I swear I’d go I swear I’d try. I’d pick this flower surely ‘Neath a moonlit sky. Taking its juice purely. Squeeze I this flower dry. Anoint thou I From sole to crown Stalking I’d stay like a fox sly? For the dawn of day Upon me look, when you first open your eyes. From where you went to me return. Awaketh thou from this midsummer dream Divinely made, our love’s fire burn For us together, the teller of time hast seen.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Poets
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