Woolgather.

come muster some heart
this september night
for hearts too
slowly grow old
they were used
to fend off
inarticulate crusts
though now
they contest alone.

some succumb
half minded
some
evading merriment
since most
confront felicity when thrust
hence
they linger on
besides
discarded sympathy
cosseted
and overindulged.

thus we are left
with aught
an unhinged heart
for hearts can
amass entire spunk
moreover pebbles
such smatter stones
generously winding them
versus aspersions
that should have been left alone.

Propinquity

Post meridian
it's an evocative day
where a table of thought
has studied me unkempt,
can makes me misrepresent.
For in blinking excuses
chuffed eyes are must
my festival of musing
hasn't barely caught up.
So for now, its deceiving,
its sunshine screaming through,
through tinted glass hinting
on an ephemeral afternoon.
And its blazing red light
includes striking sun rays
peacefully lilting
heart beating and dancing
fetching this pen's grasp.
This moment shan't fleet
it'll obey and cash on
a woebegone evening, now furtive in ask.
And the festival will flower
gently setting up canopies,
a picnic of rhymes or a
fleeting fair of propinquity?