Our Times

ourtimes

Outlandish ponderous propositions,
From a red lady championing sordid lies,
Words imitating superstitions,
From behind deeply dead ocean blue eyes.

But what is to be said to such trappings,
Of voices in deceptive overtones,
Guised in rose petals and thorny wrappings,
To swim in shallows or the deep with stones.

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April Madness V

 Velvet

Half past midnight,

In a mood lit street,

We are sleeping alone,

Red velvet leaking from your heart;

A blanket To keep us warm.

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