Find me dancing, pointed East
Join me ’til we touch the West
Ice-bound North to shifting lights
We bare our shoulders heading South
You spicy rivers, flowing black
Oh peaky, jutting majesties
Please, in-betweens dusted with grit
And sweaty moss, hold fast my hand
No matter the fear
Or the depths of the madness
I honor my friends
7 Little Haiku Truths
No matter the Day
I still chime and spin in light
I’ve hope for The best
We’ve audible eyes
And all of our lives to talk
Let speech fail our lips
That day and today
Angels busy ’round your crown
Stars grace your fleet feet
Gift us with such light
Show us the world through your eyes
Share with us your walk
I’m not afraid to tell it
How the flora on my left
Likes to brag to all the fauna
That she’s taken with the West
Maybe ’twas the mountain
Or the headlands on the coast
Who touched soft upon her shoulder
And of whom, ’til death, she’ll boast
They’re red. They’re lilac.
And in your honor, flannel.
I will let you choose.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “S/he Said.”
She asked him to wish and he said,
“I wish that were tea. I wish that were me. I wish there were we.”
“Fool,” she smiled. “Now that’s true madness.”
“Ah, just as well then,” he remarked. “But loan me your cup?”
“I believe I’ll brush
the mysteries of your wings
with my own.” Repeat….
I’ll tilt to the left
So you may stay standing tall
We’ll both wear sunshine
Unknown couple, at the water, wearing shine
LisaRosier.com 