Like Candy

taffy

He pours his voice like taffy.

Creamy folds undulate, smooth to silk in her

hungry ears. But when he pulls his words, stretches

the truth out of shape she, generously buttered, finds there is

nothing she can hold on to. Communication – hardened

and brittle –

shatters in the stillness; she is left with only her bitter

memories of how easily those empty calories

used to go down.

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Of Words and Water

Jan Lake duck2

Freedom forms feathers –

Rows and rows standing at attention,

Roman Legionnaires linked with their brothers,

Trained to repel any onslaught;

For,

Knowing my true worth,

Your words

Drip,

Bead,

Drop,

Puddle around me.

And I, like the duck,

Am not wet.

 

Pollen Counts

princess purple pollen

Golden grains, a holy harvest

hovering on fruitful lips;

words are pollen, rich with meaning,

pregnant with potential scripts

.

that sow within a listening soul

a seed of hope – embryo

which, when implanted in a heart

take root, sprout,and start to grow.

.

If unspoken, pollen withers,

loses ground, and starts to die;

if too forceful, it will spatter,

staining as it whizzes by.

.

If applied as God intended,

spread by gentle breeze or art –

pollen counts, and reproduces

life and health and growth by heart.

 

 

 

Hook, Line and Sinker

fishing

 

He used to cast his words indifferently,

random forays into random pools in

hopes of a nibble. Now, he selects

his bait with care – a metaphorical

jig, an alliterative spoon, a methodically

tied fly well-placed into the heart of

the brook. There, he sets the hook

with practised hand, reeling in

a string of gleaming tales

to recount at tomorrow’s camp-fire.