quillish in quintillus

feels quite quillish in quintillus
simply scribbish in sextillus
words quiver through my fingers
while a hint of rhyme here lingers

shaking all the tree trunks
in the grove of queer ideas
riles up some shy skunks
and squirrels, the drama divas

a nest of speckled dovelettes
in the shade from scorching sun
their coolly cooing parents
with black eyes set to stun

baby geckos cling to stucco
hiding beneath rosemary
until forced by flood to go
rude bucket i carry

the warren of wary rabbits
peek out at setting sun
nibble the garden to bits
hop off to other fun

i hear whisp’ring in the branches
in the grove of good ideas
i hear twitt’ring avalanches
treasure trove of leaves and pages

the dark garden looms before me
transfixed by sound and shadow
just beyond what i can see
curious what it might show

i must learn to tend the garden
learn to prune the darkened grove
train the stems aplenty
transcend what i now know

words quiver through my fingers
while a hint of rhyme here lingers
feels quite quillish in quintillus
simply scribbish in sextillus

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About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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