now let us… 2

And here we come to the velvety
cubbyhole strongly hinting coconut
yet let it not be assumed the milky
makes it or the lotions most doubtless
can sense are spread by hands the tropical
breezes that major in rustle are seldom

too wrung from work to skim a familiar
perimeter – we will continue
as soon as a conference all hope
is short is called in hopes of appeasing
the tropical breezes, like it seems
they are bred for persistence as they do

not desist in swinging through and just when
wondering if a fan wouldn’t come in
handy at this coincidental
measure. It isn’t discomfort they cause
for they cannot exactly discomfit.
The acrobat astride the gold-eyed dragonfly

warrants words tenderly chiseled
into a selected medallion
of bronze. The masses are hard pressed to find
what we do affordable – little can
on that tone be sung. So anyway a spare
idle isle spawn should go on and shimmy

on up the pole formerly known as tree
without succumbing to the allure
the tropical breezes – meaning the seas
in these parts – have enviable talents
in hammock ensnarement, for we must
redo every detail by now done.

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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