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Book Blurb For Poetry Book Not Written

ceiling-light-4

Poetry From The Light Fixture is an illuminating book of verse from an electrifying author.

The poet in question is a questioning poet, quarrying for answers in the rich loam of Earth’s mysteries.

The instinct of a pollen-laden honeybee,

Coupled with the dynamic curiosity of a fluffy kitten,

Allow this poet to plumb the depths of inarticulate sensitivity,

And grant to us,

Grateful readers everywhere,

Proof positive that,

Yes,

Ideed,

Here is a mind that actually thinks.

(image) https://technical.sabhlokcity.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/ceiling-light-4.jpg

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The Elephant’s Poems For God On National Poetry Day

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My book of short stories, The Elephant Talks to God, consists of many conversations that an Elephant has with God. In one of the stories, he breaks out into {his version of} poetry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The monkeys, in the trees,

Cause a breeze, when they sneeze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I nudged the boulder with my shoulder.

It was older, and much colder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is a stone, which has grown

In a zone, all alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is a thrill, to have free will,

That is until, others say `nil’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s not my last, don’t be so fast,

My muse to cast, into the past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rock of ages, dissolved in stages,

And proved the sages’, `noblesse obliges’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s just a guess, I do confess,

That more is less, in the wilderness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God – as God is wont to do – did have the last word.

Poems are made by fools like thee,

But only I can make a tree.

By Request – Poems From The Elephant On National Poetry Day

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Although National Poetry Day began in Britain, it seems to have taken over the world. Well, the Twitter world at any rate. And who better that The Elephant to decant a few choice verses?

Who better, indeed?

DE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The monkeys, in the trees,

“Cause a breeze, when they sneeze.”

*****

“I nudged the boulder with my shoulder.

“It was older, and much colder.”

****

“It is a thrill, to have free will,

“That is until, others say `nil’.”

****

“That’s not my last, don’t be so fast,

“My muse to cast, into the past.”

****

“It’s just a guess, I do confess,

“That more is less, in the wilderness.”

 

 

 

The Elephant Rhymes For God On World Poetry Day

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The elephant was contemplating his muse.
He was lying beside the river, trailing one of his big feet in the water.
He watched as the current rippled and sparkled past, and noted the occasional
leaping fish with bemusement.He looked across to the other shore with a sigh,
and then closed his eyes to more fully experience the race of the river against his toes.
After indulging himself in this manner for awhile, he flopped onto his back, so he could
look at the trees.
He traced their outline against the blue sky with his trunk, and followed
the curve of some branches overhanging the river with interest. He even smiled benignly as a family of monkeys clambered up one tree, leapt through the canopy of leaves, and

raced down another.

He suddenly slapped his forehead with his trunk, rolled over with such force that
he jostled a boulder with his flank, and began to emote.

The monkeys, in the trees,
“Cause a breeze, when they sneeze.”

“Pardon me?” said the boulder.

I nudged the boulder with my shoulder.
“It was older, and much colder.”

“Oh boy,” said God.

“I am a POET,” said the elephant.

“Oh boy, again,” said God.

It is a stone, which has grown,
“In a zone, all alone.”

“Would that I were – alone, and away from the voices.”

“I’m expressing myself,” said the elephant.

“That is a statement of truth,” said God, “which does not contain the whole truth.”

“It is a thrill, to have free will,
“That is until, others say `nil’.”

“To be fair,” God stifled a chuckle. “You seem to have grasped the concept of
rhyme – although your reach sometimes exceeds it.”

“But that’s what heaven’s for,” pointed out the elephant.

“You’ll get,” said God, “no Browning points from me.”

“That’s not my last, don’t be so fast,
“My muse to cast, into the past.”

“You’ve heard about too much of a good thing?” asked the boulder, giving a nudge of its own.

“Yes,” said the elephant.

“Well – this isn’t it.”
“You don’t like the way I make the words dance?”
“I’d rather sit this one out.”

In the misty morn, he sat forlorn;

“He wouldn’t adorn, the dance floor well-worn.”

“Oh boy,”said God.

“As you can see,” said the elephant. “I provide a lot of bon mot for each and
every occasion.”

“Such a threat is enough to make a boulder crumble,” said the boulder.

“The rock of ages, dissolved in stages,
“And proved the sages’, `noblesse obliges’.”

“Oy veh,” said God. “I’ve become a straight man for a stand-up elephant.”

“I could pack a hall,” said the elephant.

“You could pachyderm,” pointed out God.

It’s just a guess, I do confess,
“That more is less, in the wilderness.”

“This could go on forever,” said God.

“You’re the expert there,” pointed out the elephant.

“Then I think I’ll repair to the forest,” said the boulder.

“He stood, in the wood,
“Where he could, do most good.”

The boulder rumbled with a voice which filled the jungle.

Poems are made by fools like thee,
“But only I can make a tree.”
DE

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