Where should I leave to today,
The flower beds or the orange groves?
Or perhaps to the lone tree of the concrete garden,
Where I may sit on the concrete bench
And watch the birds flutter in the concrete birdbath?
I may go there, for in the flower beds I still see birds flutter,
And in the orange groves I still see trees.
So perhaps I shall stroll out the door,
And sit across the way on my concrete bench.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Upon the dusty curve of spring
My fellow begonia likes to swing.
The beaten sculpture likes to dance
While little milk boy swings his lance.
Oho the spring has come for us!
Form a ring and sing 'til dusk!
Sing 'til the day has gone away!
Dance 'til the moon casts its glow on the bay!
Riddles and stories and birds and rats
All are rising, even the cats.
The lanterns fall
The trees stand tall!
Come spring, to greet us all!
Posted by Aber N.T. at 6:53 PM