new england appreciation

it's pretty but it's cold
though upon waking former holds
won't be long before that's old
and latter fills the stage

along with memories of the dream
shorts barefeet and sunshine seem
to fill the waking hours

there was a time not long ago
SoCal weather had no fro
and to that made it extra sweet
when viewed from other end of street
'cause both were just alike

summer and the early fall
the sweet spot found amidst it all
the mud the snow and ice

let's not forget the freezing rain
nor'east driven sideways pain
slick roadways no brakes can tame

grateful for my oil bill
and frozen hands October until
May when I begin to drift
to slumber brief
when dream's alive
warm and sweeter than this winter jive

© 2018 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

dark matters

why does she crave the darkness so
eschew the heights for deep below
the thermocline where sound and light
refuse to go and let the night
hold onto its eternal sway

she cherishes the could have beens
if caution had been thrown to winds
and hungers dark given the chance
to be unbridled and to dance
' til sated then to slumber

like embers in the woodstove cold
and dark before the passion's breath
awakens red and hot and bold
the darkness held within

© 2018 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Inspired by a post by Lori Carnegie Ryan

over done

my very soul
it aches
from so much overarching over use
my very heart
my very being
similarly so very over done
like Captain Kirk intoning Klingonese intransigence

I'd rather much explore
the varied flavors of
my berry soul
and all the fruit concoctions
it implies

© 2018 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

shaken

juniper lantern suffuses the day
with a kaleidoscopic'ly crystal display
from start of the ritual
'til warmth fades away

juniper lantern your light gives me pause
shoos the wolves from my door
wraps my eyes with warm gauze
that softens the world and the sleights she's imposed
gives illusory strength and a masterful pose
to one who would otherwise fall through the cracks
relegated to shadow filed away in the stacks

in the glow of that lantern he's graceful and lithe
intelligent pithy attractive alive
a beacon the comely young moths can't ignore
even though in the darkness they'd quickly abhor
the tarnish his armor has gathered of late
the creak of its hinges his lumbering gait

juniper lantern suffuses the day
with a warm gentle light
that keeps harsh truths at bay
and allows hope to burn
an exquisite display

© 2018 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved