The Veil of Night

THROB and thrum of party carries on evening air.
COYLY, night withholds its message; instead
ENSUEs variety: many sleep, some make love, some fret, some few slink.
ABOVE, eyes needing no light trace a story we cannot see through the dark.

Relics


EBONY chest, dusty from decades in the
ATTIC, rests patiently with its treasures within:
CONCH from the tropics, teeth and claws from the jungle,
STAFF from the icy mountains climbed long ago.



See more at Notes by Steven.

Unexpected

STILTS my head was tottering on;
CAPER my soul did, at an awkward
ANGLE, the night I saw the staid pastor,
CIGAR in mouth, smoking in a manner untoward.

Dragon on Stilts

ANGLE on life: carefree and playful, Grab
CIGAR from humidor, then up onto, one hop,
STILTs, in TRex costume, all swooshy step.
CAPER! Littlest kids will recall a dragon’s strut.