Poetry

Seaside Summons

by ®

I thought about her
The posture of my mother
That this moment would make her grin
Out of the corner of her face
A smirk
That I would know that she was satisfied
As pleased as she could be

I thought about her
On this day
The sky too ripe with white
Specks of black crows darting
The ocean smiling back at her
As I close my eyes to sense it
To spot her on the bluff
A Seaside gallery of portraits
Tilt my head
Trace summer spices
From wild gardens
Heated sand in seashells
Then listen to the butterfly sighing

I thought about her
While I stood on cliffs and old roots
Where she might think her silly phrases
Paint pictures with her fingers
Dance the witches’ jig
Hold down her floppy hat
Wrap scarves of purple fingering
As she winked at me
For her release
In this instant
That she dreamed of
Long before I was ever born

PRECIOUS BABY ADIEU

photo: Christie Bastet Creepy Dolls

Precious Baby Adieu
Dead as dead could be
Her mother Lady Taboo
Dressed her beautifully
In mourning black
To welcome back
Her spirit from the grave
To stroll along the commons
So everyone would rave

Precious Baby Adieu
Dead as dead could be
Laying in the goat’s rue
Billowing by the sea
A death head moth
In pina cloth
Her favorite toy t’teethe
As all who gazed upon her
Swore that she did breathe

Precious Baby Adieu
Dead as dead could be
Her coffin made of druid’s yew
T’cradle pretty pea
Dim lullabies
In gloomy skies
Lulled her fast asleep
Where she dreamed of angels
That prayed her soul t’keep

in e†ernity,

Brazillia R. Kreep
The Kreep