Author: Pontvert

Yes, black lives matter,
All life is precious, the same,
And all need respect.

These are such strange days,
Civil unrest and lock down,
Then there is curfew.

What a strange, strange world,
I pray you stay well and blessed,
And in peace, go forth!

The line wasn’t straight,
But, no one said it should be,
So, it formed an arc.

Some say I’m cuckoo,
But I didn’t just fly in,
I have been around.

Trailing a long stick,
I could see distinctive tracks,
And this line was straight.

So, I tripped the light,
I was static and erratic,
Up in the attic.

The ladder led up,
That sounds heavy to me now,
It went all the way.

In this space I felt
The floor had a little bounce,
So, I danced about.

I’m seeing clearer,
Distorted reality,
And vanishing points.

The sunlight colludes,
Throwing shadows on the ground,
And feeling warmer.

Temptations surround,
Though not one of them’s taken,
Just a little taste.

The cooling night air,
Breezes me to a fresh sleep,
Where dreams seldom come.

The rose bush looks sad,
Resplendent one year and now,
Just a thorny bush.

Such a joyful month,
The sun in the sky so bright,
Such a pleasant time.

The night is good too,
A cooling breeze feels so good,
With the waxing moon.

I trying to write,
A book or two, maybe more,
Let’s see how that goes.

The day awoke bright,
Cheery in the clear blue sky,
Not a care in sight.

The burdens lifted,
Vanished in the bright blueness,
Of this new fresh day.

Saturday was hard,
Unyielding, almost painful,
Then release did come.

T’was about midnight,
The music played in darkness,
Soothing the poor beast.

The day started well,
Things got done, almost fun,
Then it just crashed down.

No flames just burdens,
Heavy and tiresome they are,
Right down to the ground.