Mission - I

Coerced by shadows in the amber glow
I feel compelled to share a tale I know
about a fierce nomadic loner born
when Ares hung brightly one fateful morn.

Possessed of great strength and terrible ire
he stalked through darkness, a killer for hire
no name was given for none had the chance
to see this phantom once fixed in his glance.

One evening a sultan of some renown
was keen to punish affronts to the crown
he called to the blackest fold of his tent
“Come forth marauder of fearsome decent!”

Alert to the promise of sanctioned death
this wraith appeared like ethereal breath,
a menacing glint in his feral eyes
subdued those seated before they could rise.

The buzzing of flies broke a nervous still
then someone boldly said, “Come, drink your fill,
our honeyed wine will soothe your weary bones
while sultry harem girls elicit moans.”

“Such lavish trappings soften those of wealth
I choose to don the thrifty threads of stealth,
enjoy the indulgence that makes you weak
for culling goes quicker among the meek.

Now who has called me to vanquish a foe?
The name of the prey is all I need know
my blade will quickly drain every last dreg
unless you would like them to shamelessly beg.”

The sultan sat breathless, consumed by his fear
but managed to muster his haughtiest sneer
“The name is Verona, remember it well
and send the ungrateful temptress to hell!”

“Her head shall be yours or my life in its place.”
he said with no hint of doubt on his face
as the stifled assemblage sat wringing soft hands
and watched him disintegrate into dark sands.

Gyrations

Beneath the final summer sun
too subdued to shimmer
my thoughts begin to simmer
revealing just a glimmer
of journeys yet begun

across a rock that spins upon
a temperamental tether
that’s barely held together
and contemplating whether
it’s prudent to go on.

Class

Your place is decreed
by how you are treed
for one fruitful branch
can banish the need

to bashfully blanch
deprived of a tranche
or cover a cut
to stoically stanch

the blood when they gut
you and cockily strut
displaying their sneers
on jawbones that jut

so never show fears
when blasted with jeers
remember your value
for these are your peers.

Hearten

Inconsequence is not a curse
just fodder for indulgent verse
but no amount of whiny wit
will ever make the quandary quit
so strive to string along a stream
of words that make one want to dream
about the best that we can be
as vessels of nobility.

Seclusion

Beneath the helm
there lies a realm
of one, who like a crooked elm
discreetly brims
with wooden whims
extending gnarly naked limbs
that long to touch
but only clutch
the remnants of a faulty crutch
and can’t achieve
the least reprieve
so log about the lust to leave.

Confirmed

This dream is in vain
my life too mundane
to warrant a visit by alien craft
but boy if they did
and I blew the lid
my friends would at last say "Poor Bob has gone daft!"

Rigamarole

Up down
moody clown
in out
screw the doubt
left right
who’s more white
true false
can the schmaltz.

Plum

Like little Jack Horner, we met in the corner
exchanging our pieces of pie
then she thumbed her nose, and I, lachrymose
must now wish her well and goodbye.

Swan Song

Performing pirouettes
upon an early autumn breeze
helps scatter the regrets
recalling days atop the trees

and swaying with such graceful ease
devoid of any debts
upon an early autumn breeze
performing pirouettes.

Here?

At times it seems my mind has slipped away,
despite the fact there isn’t much to lose
(nor hardly any ego left to bruise)
I grapple with the gallivanting gray,
my grasp becoming looser every day
allowing lucid rivulets to ooze
between the digits doubts discreetly use
manipulating confidence to sway.
Maturity begins to finally prey
upon my eyes, disintegrating hues
and hiding things behind a blurry ruse
that’s more disturbing than I care to say.
Defiantly I hold my favorite pen
to duly write… now where was I again?

Chip

I journeyed back to where the seed
became a pliant sprout
and quickly grasped the tragic need
to harbor constant doubt

for many elements can force
a tender stem to bow
by battering without remorse
the strength to disavow.

Environmental factors spurred
formation of a bark
that helps deflect debris that’s stirred
when howling tempests spark

but also hinders any form
of flexibility
with rigidness that borders on
insensibility.

Round

Higgs said it mattered
but once things get splattered
will deeper enigmas be all they produce?
There’s no big solution
to war and pollution
empirical data can ever deduce

for greed is chaotic
desires neurotic
raw clay is a substance not easily tamed;
we foster collision
creating division
essential to see how the whole may be framed.

Schemer

I resent redundance
but seldom have time
to alter with abundance
this repetitious rhyme.

Hunger

In deep dark recesses
on sticky silk tresses
two warriors spar
as mortality presses
the fray

and the one who is leaner
appears to be meaner
and quicker by far
inflicting a cleaner
array

of blows till, defeated
the fatter is treated
to bindings that bar
escape, then secreted
away.

Ripples

I see my own fragility
reflected in the glass
with lines made no softer by the blur
whose indents are the kind that must occur
when sentences surpass
the semblance of civility.

Breezy

September has transpired
and though I should be scroungin’
I’m suddenly inspired
to exercise some loungin’

for seldom is the sun so pure
or pleasant wind so clean
that all my doubts are less unsure
and prospects seem umpteen.

Specialty

I clipped some thyme
which sparked this rhyme
about a soup some call sublime,
you have to sweat
to truly get
the flavor patrons won’t forget
but don’t call it toil
and try to spoil
my taste for bringing the pot to a boil.

Mettle

The scintillating grass is so exquisite
each waving blade alive with bursts of light
that seem to hail my unexpected visit
as though I were the archetypal knight,

but lately my defenses have been failing
depending on this armor rife with chinks
and confidence in victory is ailing,
abandoning a countenance that sinks

until I take a moment to remember
it’s not the outer shell that makes you strong—
the best defense against a harsh December
is filling up your heart with summer’s song.

Root

A family of beech trees is standing plainly proud
their tender bark so different from the ruffians that crowd
around them crookedly, voracious for the light,
examining their timber in the oldest kind of fight.

Bias

How much a pane refracts the light
depends upon your line of sight
as many vistas thusly built
exhibit a peculiar tilt
ignored by those content to dwell
within an ever-leaning shell.

***picture provided by Shirley, thanks much!!***