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Outta Here!

Life sentence –
When you kill one mouse.
It’s not fair!

——————– 

 

Another Evil

Three monkeys
Don’t see, hear, speak – but
Something smells.

——————– 

 

Nursery Rhyme Answered

Hey, black sheep:
Have you any wool?
Yes – wooly!

———————-

Outta – photo by Krzysztof Szkurlatowski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mhXQrLA/Escape+of+cat+from+military+zo

Evil – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oq9uicw/wise+monkeys1

Nursery – photo by Michael and Christa Richert at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/moy33lw/two+little+black+sheep

———————

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

………….Bond And Free

Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about –
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.
 

On snow and sand and turf, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world’s embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be.
But Thought has shaken his ankles free. 

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius’ disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight,
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.


.

…………….The Lady Of Fashion

I know what I’ll wear if there’s smoke in the air –
I’m prepping for it with a passion.
I cannot be caught like a babe – unaware;
For I am a lady of fashion. 

The touches I add will bring praises by all
(For frills, I am filled with compassion):
White lace and white gloves and a pink parasol,
For I am a lady of fashion. 

In case of a fire, I’ll escape in great style
Though faces around me be ashen.
I’ll stroll down the steps with a red carpet smile.
So said the grand lady of fashion.

————————————————————

photo by drow at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mWyqkOy/fire+escape

————————————————————

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau;
Mock on, mock on; ‘tis all in vain!
You throw the sand against the wind,
And the wind blows it back again. 

And every sand becomes a Gem
Reflected in the beams divine;
Blown back they blind the mocking eye,
But still in Israel’s paths they shine. 

The Atoms of Democritus
And Newton’s Particles of light
Are sands upon the Red Sea shore,
Where Israel’s tents do shine so bright.


Interpretation

Both flattened:
Biker, bicycle.
Now, heaven?

———————

 

The Event Between

Two parties
Once coupled as one –
Now, divorced.

——————–

 

Fringe Benefit

How men work
In midst of beauty –
Mystery.

——————–

Interpretation – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/oaA0al6/concrete+directions1

Between – photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nOYC8Sy/end+of+the+line2

Benefit – photo by Michaela Kobyakov at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mGBS328/floating+timber+3

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

……………Outwitted

He drew a circle that shut me out –
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win
We drew a circle that took him in!

 

Words On My Mother’s 90th Birthday

Your family’s together massed,
Not merely for the milestone passed,
The ninety years with us you dwell,
But that you lived them very well.
And every day for us you know
You gave so much that we all owe
So much to you we cannot pay,
So much that words can never say.
That’s why we come from near and far
To show our love for who you are.

———————————————-

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

…………The Exposed Nest

You were forever finding some new play.
So when I saw you down on hands and knees
In the meadow, busy with the new-cut hay,
Trying, I thought, to set it up on end,
I went to show you how to make it stay,
If that was your idea, against the breeze,
And, if you asked me, even help pretend
To make it root again and grow afresh.
But ‘twas no make-believe with you today,
Nor was the grass itself your real concern,
Though I found your hand full of wilted fern,
Steel-bright June-grass, and blackening heads of clover.
‘Twas a nest full of young birds on the ground
The cutter bar had just gone champing over
(Miraculously without tasting flesh)
And left defenseless to the heat and light.
You wanted to restore them to their right
Of something interposed between their sight
And too much world at once – could means be found.
The way the nest-full every time we stirred
Stood up to us as to a mother-bird
Whose coming home has been too long deferred,
Made me ask would the mother-bird return
And care for them in such a change of scene,
And might our meddling make her more afraid.
That was a thing we could not wait to learn.
We saw the risk we took in doing good,
But dared not spare to do the best we could
Though harm should come of it; so built the screen
You had begun, and gave them back their shade.
All this to prove we cared.  Why is there then
No more to tell?  We turned to other things.
I haven’t any memory – have you? –
Of ever coming to the place again
To see if the birds lived the first night through,
And so at last to learn to use their wings.

 


………………
Light Lies In Wait

When present and the future both seem dark
Like cloudy nights when stars don’t give a spark;
When you, it seems, are standing all alone
With none on which to lean, to hear your groan;
When up ahead there is no certain path,
And there’s no sure escape from nature’s wrath;
When all the days and all the nights are cold
And gone the glitter, gone the precious gold,
Then find your grit, and walk, and work, and dream
Until a bit of sun begins to gleam.

——————————————————

photo by Marion Priglinger at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/onumKhe/winter+sunbeams+1

——————————————————

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

 

………………..On The Sea

It keeps eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often ‘tis in such gentle temper found
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be moved for days from where it sometime fell,
When last the winds of heaven were unbound.
Oh, ye who have your eye-balls vexed and tired,
Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea;
……Oh, ye whose ears are dinned with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody,
……Sit ye near some old cavern’s mouth, and brood
Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quired.

 

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