Two poems to serenade Tuesday
Strangers in the Night
Strangers meeting in the dark, quiet night
Lonely paramours who could no longer their burning desires fight
Two, opportunistic souls seeking infidelity's penalty to blight
An impromptu rendezvous their amorous natures to delight
A trite, chemical connection that shares no keen insight
Two shadows gleefully reproaching the availing light *
A truant love that needs only a spark to ignite
Sprite hearts that willfully unite and secretly spite
Froward minds ignoring their deviant course and diabolical plight
Carefree spirits quickly bond then take flight
Every fleeting stare. stealthy kiss pressing borrowed time with all their might
Sharing hands lustily caress the moment, then callously wholesome love slight
Writhing bodies cling tightly, then at dawn's first glint alight *
The Potter's Hand
Coarse, featureless shards stagnating
Fodder for a discerning hand's mending
Putty strands their potential value bleating
For a potter's touch; new life entreating
Gentle hands rough surface massaging
Rubbery texture patting and preening
Carefully each lump, fold kneading
Instinctively more clay into mixture feeding
Pressing the mass around the wheel now speeding
Softly caressing, while each corner buttressing
Holpen hands new shape, form deeding
A spherical chalice deftly molding
Each, cascading side symetrically scaling
Delicate fingers each crenelation each groove formulating
Peeling off excessive fragments, proportions receding
Moisture from the master's hand now bleeding
Patiently, a tidy colander forging
With rythmic, patterned movements shearing
An artistically, woven pot from the wheel emerging
A magestic artifact the maestroes skill divulging **
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