une fleur d'or

I could not find my golden locket
so i reached into my pocket
but I felt no metal  smooth and cold,
but a living breathing marigold.

Some petals had sadly fallen astray
and on the ground they sadly lay,
the tint of the sun's luscious locks
at the highest point of the equinox.

I picked up every last lost petal
and placed it on my golden medal,
and thus it stayed a perfect flower
but only so, a fleeting hour

For then a faint breeze stirred
the East wind's sigh went not unheard,
and the rays of my sunstar
were scattered much too far,

for me to have hope of gathering them,
the citrine gold off my diadem.

-Pamplemousse

crack in the sidewalk

while observing the prints of storming strides

the remainders of a compassionate quarrel

with eyes down

i walked alone on the walk

i could see every trampled flower stalk

each uprooted root

if these cracks in the cement could talk

what man would they disrepute?

some things know all secrets,

each dastardly wicked role

the minute dirts and grits

that lie,

        fallen, 

        within the deepest cracks of our soul

-Pamplemousse

A hypocrisy of sounds

Villainy poisons, corrupts,erupts
It kills and maims and shames.

So i wonder why I feel
That if i did not know it's meaning
The word villainy i would find quite pleasing
The short vowels that act as a string of pearls, mellifluously sliding into water
The ells in the core that sound as two small fingers dipped in honey, gently gliding over smoothest glass

If i were ignorant to the meaning i would perhaps guess that villainy,
Were a romantic vine crawln up a tree
Or a pretty girl with poetic eyes
It seems absurd that such an ugly word
Has such romantic sound

-Pamplemousse