MIDNIGHT POETRY – ‘Fully Grown’

When all rivers run wild again
When sun rises in the wee small hours
When bread is baked from sour flours
When can we open eyes ours

On the approach of the age in the middle
On the roof sits a funny man with a fiddle
On the table cereals in a small round bowl
On the wall a cuckoo clock time piddle

The Minerva her soldiers confused
The observer who has been used
The rights of people plainly abused
The patience that has been tested

From the moon that shines white glow
From the groom to loving husband
From bare skin to a full chest grow
From innocence to maturity flow

Our unity has been breached
Our insanity has been reached
Our sterility has been preached
Our stability totally undermined

Who can we call to save our brain
Who is there to breakthrough our pain
Who has the power to change our mind
Who is the Savior going to reign

For timid mankind it could get worst
For greater happiness safety leaves first
For our clarity there is no thirst
For the nonsense bubble to burst

Chaos is the key

MIDDAY POETRY – “Another Day Breathing”

Another chance to walk in the bush
Hardy trees of diverse colors and shades
Forest fruits unknown to our tastes

Roots by the creek sprawling like a web
Painted rock in the trunk sharing a message
Are we finding all the signs nature leaves us?
What is she trying to portray?


Perhaps that the day is here
When NOW is the time to live life
Stop the wait for ‘That day’ in the future
As there is no certainty on this road called life

What was yesterday are just blurred memories
What is going to be tomorrow is never sure
Today and in each given moment
Between the breaths going in and out

Live just a little!

Enjoy the mystery…

MIDDAY POETRY – ‘Tree Stories’

TREE STORIES

Deep into the forest
Walked we eagerly
Birds chirped above

Tall trees strangled
By a small fig seed
Soon to be overpowered
Overgrown and hollow

The canopy filled with light
Sun slowly moved across
The leafy outlook
Sudden sound in the bush

Eyes wide open
Ears pricked
Paws holding a seed
Wallaby on a watch

In the rotting leaves
Mushrooms attached
To an old tree branch
Sucking life out of it

Underground unseen
Creatures of the dark
Earthworms long and many
Appear after storm

The day was just perfect
For a forest story

Rested