Jeffrey Hull
Friday, August 26, 2005
Visitor
Old Joe stopped by the other day,
Was sorry that he could not stay —
But left a casserole of sprains
And sundry aches and minor pains;
He had to rush, but just dropped in
To comment on my wrinkled skin
As only closest friends will do:
"As always, dear, I think of you."
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull
Was sorry that he could not stay —
But left a casserole of sprains
And sundry aches and minor pains;
He had to rush, but just dropped in
To comment on my wrinkled skin
As only closest friends will do:
"As always, dear, I think of you."
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull
Friday, August 19, 2005
Summer's End
Misty trees, West Virginia © 2007 Rick Lee
First yellow fringes coyly hint their clue,
What nascent autumn's handiwork will do
To dancing leaf and August-swaying limb
Now vainly seeking out time's antonym.
Too short! too short! the mockingbird complains
But gains no longer summer for his pains;
Mosquitoes of the heavy dusk drink deep
Of ruby wine that beckons winter sleep.
Expectant summer gestates deep within
Her rip'ning belly autumn's discipline,
Whose spark will soon ignite the verdant leaves
In flaming hues above the harvest sheaves;
The autumn jewels in nature’s coronet
Admired but yet not worn—not yet, not yet.
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull
Friday, August 12, 2005
FedEx
A package came today Express
To liven up my loneliness;
It was the strangest steel device
For crushing hearts in soft caress.
The paperwork? devoid of price.
Instructions? there was no advice.
It seems to be for squeezing tears —
But then your glance should quite suffice.
In usage, too much pain adheres
And gums the brightly polished gears,
Which makes the cleanup such a mess;
Best send it back—or so one hears.
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull
A package came today Express
To liven up my loneliness;
It was the strangest steel device
For crushing hearts in soft caress.
The paperwork? devoid of price.
Instructions? there was no advice.
It seems to be for squeezing tears —
But then your glance should quite suffice.
In usage, too much pain adheres
And gums the brightly polished gears,
Which makes the cleanup such a mess;
Best send it back—or so one hears.
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull
Friday, August 05, 2005
© 2004 Shooter.net - all rights reserved - reproduced by permission
Dragonflies
I wonder what the dragonflies expect
When morning sunlight wakes their double wings;
If rising from their reeds, they recollect
The prior day of marshy happenings.
And fly they forth with plans to fill the day,
Or goals to optimize each sunlit hour,
To maximize their take of insect prey
With quotas of mosquitoes to devour?
Or live they in each moment as it comes
To revel in their iridescent now
In blissful ignorance of charts and sums
Like happy little children of the Tao.
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull
