the cure

Winter is finally falling asleep.

 

last week

(when the frost ran like chunky tears)

I read truckstop toilet limericks

to you on the front porch

and we laughed and cried with nature.

but, the green fireflies

wove you a new neon smile,

and the roses yelled pink hallelujahs

from their red brick choir loft.

we are healing. We are healing.

yesterday, I noticed

a bit of blue sky peeping

from behind the lingering

grey and white death pangs

of your struggling expression.

a blue plaid beastman with shark teeth

and a disastrous multicolored

moustache even said hello

when I went to get your pills.

I didn’t split open at the seams

or turn into a toad this time,

so, the pain must be at least dozing.

by next month,

I’d guess that the scales

will have fallen from our eyes

and the bacterial infection

will sink back into his seasonal Lazarus

grave of light and peace for a nap.

 

Winter is finally falling to sleep.

 

her runny purpled nightmares

fade into the happy green blur,

and we rise from our mental afflictions

like colorful blooms

begging for smiling warmth

and a dewdrop of love

to remedy our leafless,

lifeless stint of muck and malaise.

Reviews

[Relic]

Great writing and articulate little concepts. I've read some of your other poems, it was a nice journey through wordland. However, I feel it will take me a lifetime to meet with such advanced writing in my own mind and pen. I enjoyed, great writing.

[roarke]

The rainbow kaleidoscope is a good opening, I'd leave it end with "Winter is finally falling to sleep."