5 years old
It is Christmas Eve...
writing a rondeau
was like applying cool salve...
When you hear, dead of night
the banging of a metal bar...
As a young one
sparkly gems...
There's a thin line between right and wrong
An open space of opportunity...
Sunlight's rays are silver now,
not easy golden as before...
Today, my son, we hunt.
The flock over yonder will sate our hunger...
Open my eyes each morning
Admiring the colourful blooming flowers...
The Legend of the lonely Sparrow
As I awoke on that wispy cloudy winter’s day, it...
Perhaps by chance, an ode or utterance escapes
only to desecrate upon a good idea...
When your little one
nests in a womb...
It's here I go to find peace of mind.
Here to escape from earth and time...