Avast Wasteland
Time churned over slide-ways
An ocean of SEE escapes CAPS
Tattered torn be thy terrain remains
Worn over and under boiling froth
Scratch thy deep dagger tale tail whip
Adrift an sea view point, dungeon past
Dew tell me once again ole chest mate
Awash the Dawn of Nevermore quakes.
Eye cried alone - drought 'n famine
Piece meal quagmire - War 'n Peace
Nails scrape open, thy rails bailing failure
Allure ghostwriting - sandstone figurines
Petrified stone carving - fury spheres
Prayers scrape taunt - knead me naught tears
Eyes cried out, shrill dye duet of Skull "n Bones
Moonraker adrift Moon beam mystic Rhyme.
Fast feast yea, a trail of woe, over razor blades
Corral your seascape thoughts. bare foot sharp
God, do SEA Eyes TOO BEE Poet's Termination
To write dye wave's rein, impregnating words.
Froth fraught thy sloth choke-hold - decay purpose
Gray on Grey pulmice - abration of time travel
For Ever and More - Never To Be - butt dusk dust
Eye was, I will be, a phantom wraith Wasteland.
Forever and evermore DeTerminated TOO BEE
This Democracy of Lightning Freedom Thunder
Groundswell taking a knee for God's America
Mercedes, these fired up eyes are Poet I's that cannot -
"GIVE UP"
They say, "If you build it within an America Dream."
The grit of a nation takes root in fertile patriot minds.
This "Thank You For Your Service" Dead Poet Society
Writes dye rhyme of time amid a vast - Avast Wasteland.
Vet where VA is your mail, phone calls, appointments.
A Vietnam War Veteran, dew heals through Poet Tree vents
Wherein leaves of time, rhyme weaves thy souls true bearing.
But inside invisible prisons Democracy and Poetry Dye's Alone
Poem stops, starts up again, as branches reach out for more hope
But WE BE deserted isles - true pure power breaks, iron Poet Wills.
If you put Roundup on what Worldwide Leaders - call human Weeds
The American and Austin HeArtMosphere Bee dead germination.
Stanza naught To Be, tied to wrought wood, barking at bay moon
Moonraker silhouette soliloquy still mirror reflection reflected polish
Quiver amidst silver silken lining to the next Poem, "Vast Paradise"
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I especially like your idea of using Roundup to get rid of the weeds in high places. Great metaphor.
Ron
Love ya!
Jane