In wife’s and my March daily tag-team of poetry, Lady’s this:
O the frame’s yaw and yearn fishing a journey to the heavyside. Stars look at sweat and laugh with wetness. Mama’s hairy holes birthing iron squall. There are easier backstops for our ore. Let’s get down with fresh green leaping. Dowitchers resembling godwits back and forth.
~ Lady 3.8.2015
leads to this:
Danger Danger Will Robinson
Yaws and yams and maws and maams
and misters with blisters of sisters in jams
Heavy stars somewhere sweating in jars
their metals too weak to stay as they are
Good wits and God twits yesterday call
for things to blame whenever they fall
Earth is so sore from losing more ore
tired of the rich, sad for the poor
Do witches assemble in gathering glade
their good over bad slowly being laid
Whole holes and half and moles in the mud
sometimes help hide our burgeoning good
If we keep hurting sustaining land
Gaia has plan for removal of man
Walk upright while we close up the wrong
or here and there we won’t be for long
Raising up right while walking in light
will darkening future bring to the bright
Help hand in hand while holding in heart
that least amongst us is part of our part
Learn to live happy in world whirl of woe
then happy beats crappy as onward we go
Go on and laugh at my words silly so
but after the laughter is easier go
– Smith, 3.8.2015
