~ Purple Bow and Golf-Tees ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~
~
Whilst out for a walk, circumnavigating a lake,
Upon a grassy-knoll near a narrow intake,
Golf-pegs or tees teased pleasing my eye: and,
Whilst I neither a golfer, or have intention to be,
Thought them left there especially for me.
5 in all, bright white and wooden: put in a line,
Shiny and new, I knew what to do –
Brought them home and made them mine.
~
When then another curiosity caught my attention,
No doubt a remnant of New Year: a purple bow
Emblazoned with stars I found near a weir.
I wondered how it got there: how it might have travelled,
By land or lake or sea? But of course this bow of mystery,
Retained its hidden history – I’ll never have clarity
In how this bow came to be, but yet, it matters not,
Wizards believe in destiny. This purple bow was fated me.
~
But what was I to do with both pegs and bow?
I didn’t have a clue. So I waited by the blue
Knowing help would come along: whereupon a crow,
Dark as ebony, set down next to me, and,
Offered his advice. How nice I thought he should care,
So I sat there listening, as with feathers glistening, he spoke.
“Dewin,” he croaked, “wear the Bow, set-up 5-tees,”
“Then striking double-eagles, pen a medley.”
~*~
~ Shooting-Star ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~
~
Mid-Winter Moon, veiled occluded,
Beech and Birch, Hawthorn precluded,
Garden housed, fenced-in secluded,
There he sat alone and brooded.
~
High above, night’s deep blackening,
Softened by morning’s flamed awakening,
A new day stirred, emerged still yawning,
Rising dawning in pleated skies.
~
Upon a wall neither tall nor small,
At one end of a paved patio,
A quiet place, a serene space,
Where few folk chose to go.
~
Here he sat musing this and that,
Whilst a cat curled at his feet,
Gazed wide-eyed in wonderment,
At Heavens starry firmament.
~
As jet was she, dark as mystery:
Unsolved, timeless, never-ending,
She mewled, purred, pawed at him,
“Look up,” she said, “see everything.”
~
As if he’d heard, or following her gaze
Towards the welkin, where betwixt haze,
A shooting-star flaming bright,
Lit white the embers of dying night.
~
He sighed with delight at such a sight,
Watched as it ignited the Dawn,
First crack of light splitting night,
First breath of a new day born.
~
“One wish is yours,” she softly purred,
“How might your heart be gently stirred?”
“What flames your fire with desire?”
“What dreams do you keep in sleep?”
~
“Be mindful my Love, consider well,”
“The fated Prince in a tale told, whose soul”
“Was sold beholding gold, but whose heart”
“Found gloom in a gilded tomb.”
~
Like liquid night the canny cat,
Moved to sit where he were sat,
Upon his lap so he could see,
Into her eyes gazing up at he.
~
Wider, wider, wider still, until
With pupils dilated and he fixated,
Lulled by her felidae will, he fell
Into the well of her spell.
~
As if in a dream freely floating,
Soaring celestial skies: but yet,
Each star burning with untold yearning,
Each star a unique surprise.
~
Fears and fires, forgotten desires,
His mind in flux, in commotion.
“Wish,” she said, “let your heart be led,”
“To its rightful destination.”
~
“Think it through, you know what to do,”
“You know what inspires you.”
“Don’t wait or linger, don’t dwell or delay,”
“Make your choice upon this day.”
~
She mewled, pawed, implored him choose,
“Be quick my Love, before you lose,”
“All sense of feeling to wistful dreaming,”
“Be quick my Love and choose.”
~
One star he saw burnt o so bright,
A beacon in his line of sight:
Called-out his name again, again,
As racing he crossed the astral plain.
~
She, bright star, watched him fly,
Hasten to Her across morning’s sky: She,
Risen and showing, blushed knowing,
As only a Rose glowing knew why.
~*~
The stargazing cat uncurled from his lap,
Leaving him alone to brood.
He excited, inspired, delighted,
Alighted the wall in brighter mood.
~*~
~ Around ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~
~
These paths I’ll walk in the fullness of time,
Flow on their way like flowing fine wine,
Meandering beside the lakeside shore,
To places unknown where I couldn’t be sure,
Or more uncertain of what will be found.
These pathways leading around-and-around,
Bore with certainty of what will be found,
In places known where I should be sure,
Meandering beside the lakeside shore,
Flow on their way like flowing fine wine,
These paths I’ve walked in the roundness of rhyme.
~*~
~ Ripples ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~
~
Where do ripples go having come ashore,
When those ripples are ripples no more?
Should you know then please do say,
I’ve been here watching ripples all day,
And I’m still unsure of where ripples go,
When ripples flow on their way.
~*~
~ Glimpsed ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~
~
Flash and flare between shrubbery,
Fluorescent apparel appeals to me,
As straining hard against the breeze,
Joggers glimpsed betwixt tall trees.
~
They pass me by gasp ‘hello,’
Drenched in sweat as they flow,
As they go I watch them glow,
In spandex threads of bright yellow.
~*~
