three rabbits of the bunnylypse

three bunnies of benediction
send good luck into the world
this trio with a predilection
for patterns striped and swirled
they prepare for celebration
a thousand prayer flags unfurled

every new month’s eve
the bunnies gather in their warren
chanting prayers of peace
fishing for well wishing
they prepare a monthly message
to distribute on the breeze

they call their bunny warden
well versed in bunny diction
request a new translation
for their message to be heard
then on the new month’s morn’
rabbit rabbit rabbit can be heard

may your month be rich in blessings
even clothed in simple dressings
the spoils of your toil
harvested from the soil
and join the rabbit trio
with a bunn dance for abundance

three bunnies of benedict ellipse
send blessings out to you
so hop hop hop for hope hope hope
work to bring dreams to fruition
join the monthly tide of
three rabbits of the bunnylypse

(_/) (_/) (_/)
( ••) (••) (•_• )
/ >🍀 /🎁\ 🍒< \

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fleeced

we are all just sheep
enjoying green pastures
as they turn yellow and brown

we are all just sheep
waiting for our shepherd
to lead us to greener grass

some of us sheep see
the shepherd as savior
come to guide our precious flock

beyond this old pen
in which we’re ever locked
we need this supreme savior

to redeem our souls
to free us from this field
from this ever-dwindling yield

for we are simply sheep
whose savior safely keep
from the evils that shall reap

but look, our own wool
is sadly overgrown
hidden from our sheepy eyes

this wolf in disguise
he’s no sheep flock’s shepherd
but dastard demon spurge

under key and lock
this wolf devours our flock
more and more each passing day

yet to this dire wolf
we sacrifice our kind
because we are so wool-blind

and when our fellow sheep
dare to baa or peep
that our shepherd is the devil

we attack them back
subscribe to wolf-told lies
to preserve our wool-filled eyes

so precious is this myth
that this dire dire wolf
is our beloved savior

that we divide our flock
into saviored and the damned
we fail to see the disguise

there is only us
we are all one sheep
the savored and the lambed

the only demon
is the dire dastard wolf
we must wake our flock

lest we all do
the wolf’s bidding
and slay our flock ourselves

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krz8

oh my dear friend
beloved bob
what thief could rob
the matrix rend

your famous cackle
could surely cover
any rift in the cosmos
like too much spackle

your sarcastic smile
would render moot
the poshest snoot
with signature style

your laugh everlasting
turned beauty from gory
shining in glory
like a ghost pepper’s sting

a sun-brilliant pixel
flashing in the night
like a cylon in flight
lighting sarcastic missile

shining in glorious grace
like a burning bush
bare sofa snarf tush
and your fazed fuzzy face

your force was strong
always seasoned with wit
impassioned by any twit
your love lingers long

such glorious intensity
shone in your eyes
always bringing a prize
with your spicy tenacity

like tears in rain
such richness you gave us
your great cosmic omnibus
i cannot explain

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the light

the light that shines
in the darkness
sweeps the dust away

it polishes the mirrors
in the lighthouse
of your soul

it focuses the lenses
that illuminate
the shadows

this light so bright
invades the world
every truth revealed

this brilliant raid
pervades this realm
turns the fire on

the light who shines
in the darkness
is you

shine on

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eve of equinox

single night flower opens
revealing secret stamens
clustered cereus antennae
calling to beckoning stars

high hunter awaits
the season that sates
summer swelter abates
mild warmth permeates

marvelous mars flower
reveals its hidden power
singing to majestic moon
new year arrived so soon

fine-feathered flocks
adjust their clocks
as they roost within our boughs
on the eve of equinox

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recycled reams

we flew to
cockatoo’s creek
on pages
posing as wings

many lost
dusty dreams
dwell in
recycled reams

myriad stories
both bold and meek
within the shoppe
each story sings

some subjects which
we shall not speak
pre-read tales
a bookworm brings

Persian poems
a treatise in Greek
cozy mysteries
romantic flings

these tales live on
for traveler and geek
to live again
as recycled reams

the shopkeeper
has a borrowed beak
and stories flow
through this creek

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actors of imagination

Writing is acting on the page instead of the stage.

But the writer is the director. Or probably the co-director.

Each reader’s imagination and experience is the whole cast of actors in a production directed by the script set forth upon the page. Every read is a new production of the show. The readers are all co-directors too, interpreting the script and adding their own nuances to the story as they direct the cast of the actors of imagination to make the story what they want.

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a millennium or three

even though i haven’t seen you
in a millennium or two

whether the years were seven
or were they seventy-two
if that time we had was heaven
any ounce of time felt too few

even though i haven’t seen you
in a millennium or two

even though i broke out in hives
even though we live separate lives
there is never a year i don’t remember
the magic of the eve of september

the way you cleared an asteroid field
the way you used me as a shield
where do such ancient feelings reside
with all the memories deep inside

every day i find some gift you gave me
these have endured as fresh as can be
better to have loved and transitioned
than never to have propositioned

even though i haven’t seen you
in a millennium or two

i hope something i gave you endures
that nothing remains that still immures
some tiny token shared by amateurs
may enrichen as memory matures

even though you haven’t seen me
in a millennium or three

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cauldron call

while wand’ring the forest
branches unfolded
revealing the path
they couldn’t resist

the door to the coven
swung open before them
beckoning inward
wind whispered a word

vines hung like flosses
in trees with their mosses
the crew with no bosses
reck’ned their losses

the doorway was virtual
a hole in the bramble
the band of true ramble
stepped into the circle

it was not a building
but a cobblestone floor
strewn with pieces of kindling
aroma of petrichor

within the forest a clearing
blue sky the only ceiling
their senses full and reeling
yet sense of calm their feeling

a shiny cauldron brewing
toward the center calling
boiling bubbles spoke
within list’ners awoke

yearning so compelling
gentle bubbles yelling
brewed within their hearts
sync’d with cauldron’s farts

like a candle for a moth
each attendee sampled broth
with mug and scoop and bowl
pleased the lips, seasoned the soul

the cauldron sank into the earth
brought this coven crowd much mirth
then from the soil grew a tree
tall as toiling people three

from its young-old branches fell
disc-shaped seed pods for each palm
picked as each attendee knelt
green medallions brought such calm

each did heed the call
and turned away from the tree
within the forest wall
opened gateways each could see

separately they took their cookies
the seed pods they had earned
these broth-filled seasoned bookies
walked while in their hearts burned

through the forest they departed
while deep inside their fires started
spread to their lands all around
these sacred seeds they had found

no one spoke of what they saw
nor bubbled voices they had heard
still they spread the cauldron’s call
shared its seeds with not a word

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planting numbers

you’re always planting numbers
like seeds within my mind
some sink deep into the core
while others stick in the rind

life is like a sea of digits
never sure what you’ll find
some sparkly little fidgets
the bright ones leave you blind

always seeing numbers
that sprout within my mind
some branchy, others leafy
on occasion another kind

now i’m feeling rumbles
jumbly numbers in my mind
bouncing grinding fumbles
clashing as though maligned

then i’m hearing varied tunes
rustling runes within my mind
with each growing number beanstalk
between and betwixt each entwined

the universe of numbers
weave their ways within my mind
grow like garden field and forest
single sprouts a forest remind

you’re always planting numbers
like seeds within my mind
they sprout and grow and live
forever there enshrined

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