Limerence

The light of the day

Or the day of the morning

When the lazy lines

Hit me

In a subtle but unique way

To say

My limerence

Had commenced

On one wry smile

And I could feel the clouds

Fade away from the

Sky

Pernicious

Seeping in the bloodline

Of society

There is the truth

And some other form of

Life

Untrue to the being

Of light

On the ground

How do we assess

The pernicious effects

That have taken one day

Over

And two more

Remain focused on the light

Of the day at hand

And hope for nothing more

Vicissitudes

Variations

On an unpleasant

Theme

Over the words

Sung low and repeating

I hear the vicissitudes

Lurching from the pews

Of renewed loss of hope

In the caverns of light

Darkness

In the halls of good

Evil

Why these changes

Are forced on us like a

Placard on the ground

I await a new day

The breaking dawn

And bird sound

Propinquity

Propinquity

The moment

I let go

As the finger rolls

Off the ledge

I know that I am close

As the wind holds me up

From the danger below

A new year ahead

And one left behind

What will come in the moment

Of life

To be close

But forgotten

Ebullition

The stroke of midnight

In the city that never sleeps

As the sun fades on the final

Day

Of 2024

I rejoice quietly

With ebullition

But subtlety

Resilient

For in the night

Comes another day

Another chance

To say

I can do

Better

Christmas Day

Today is the day

That the light

Takes up a new meaning

To be the full

Version

Of light

That can help

Bring

Us to the hope

Of another year

So I hold on to the thought

Of what is to come

On this day

And those that follow

Christmas Eve

The day

Sets easy with

Heavy fog

On the lake

Freshwater damp

Air rings out

In the pale light

As the moments roll by

So to hear the carols

Ringing in the distance

As we bless the world

Around

Us

Tough

When the world

Hits the drop

On point

In the moment

Of distress

To hold up the moments

That hold us down

Making up the words

That we so long to hear

To be here today

And gone tomorrow

Fickle

There was once a man

Who could only believe

What he heard

He had no ability to think

He could only act

On the words in his ear

This fickle man

Had no spine or hope

To be a powerful foe

To the darkness

Of the days ahead

Melancholy

Whose spirit is that

Of nothing to bright

Nor to low

For the melancholy foe

Stands on his hind feet

Waiting for the moment

Of in between light and dark

The feeling emits the

Fear yet the hope

We all know and love