By brian francis
it is a freedom
that allows unfettered control.
Words cast upon the page
in their rawest state;
the flow born of the poet’s seasoned spirit,
etched upon his soul
by the Muse as he sleeps.
Craft is not lost in the clutter of words
spoken upon the page,
they cluster in reasoned strophes
and the metered standard.
they dance like a leaf in the wind;
tumbling and bounding,
In the flow of life embraced.
An unrestricted celebration!
Copyright ©2020 brian francis
By brian francis
The sun still hidden paints the eastern sky.
Feathers rustle with a waking shake.
The coolness draws a shiver.
Cupping the ceramic mug
warming palms and fingers.
Sleep still beckons, a siren’s song,
whispers taunt a weary gasp.
Sipping and pondering my day
to the trickle of an artificial stream.
Stillness pervades this hour,
quiet thoughts drift through the mind.
Bats seen returning to roost,
dance among the trees of the orchard.
Down to the last drop
of french press brewed Kona.
Just in time to see the first rays
as Helios blesses nature’s beings.
Even the trees turn their leaves
to greet him and his warming touch,
as he bathes the waking world.
A glowing moment.
The chirps and cries of the birds
soon joined by the beeps and chirps
of the electronic devices ever-present.
Texts, emails arrive, the morning gathering.
I hesitate to look and lose this moment
to the coming day’s chores and duties;
but as the neighbor’s cat rounds the corner
the parrots scream a fear-filled warning.
The cat enjoys his affect and strolls
slowly, as he displays his power.
The reveille announcing my day.
Thankfully, the neighbors rarely complain,
but, still I release the hound.
The cat skedaddles and peace returns–
my day’s begun.
Copyright © 2020 brian francis