Aloha Poets,
Berry vanilla vine inspires today's poem. Enjoy!
Hoard of a Hotter Horror
As the western sky turns its earthen hue
I awake and step out into the din
Outlines of grass huts creep into view
Spans of distance catch me from within
Before my eyes a mirage, a public clock
With pendulums and all that entails
I thought of a timetable's linking lock
To capture those off jungle trails
Mobs of the moment somewhere move
Far away from this lapping shore
Shored up by the strong-willed to approve
Casting sway over a napping hoard
Suddenly a whole whale approaches my view
With his splashy penchant to beckon
Out of dignified respect I salute him too
With thoughts of how distant shores reckon
Cycles in nature maintain their own bent
Temporal moderators with no distraction
Still I wonder where my imagined clock went
Off to control the another spotlight of attraction
Isn't that true? The tourist mob out there must drive you crazy. And on their little schedule, they must miss so much. Like your whale... I really like this one - I like the structure and the sound.
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