Cardinal of Red
"Welcome Poet," said
the Cardinal of Red.
Wind softly stirring,
pine branches swaying;
leaves soaring down,
piling to and fro,
here and there,
upon the ground,
where will they go.
Debris and fodder crunch
loudly under heavy boots;
following paths and trace
as the sun bids us adieu.
Twilight now appears;
at the edge of the Pond;
the Cardinal of Red says,
"Goodbye Poet, til sunrise
whispers upon a new day."
Cherish the flamboyance of a chaotic festoon;
surrounded by the bloom of a December rose;
a final heaving exhale of the moon now setting;
the cries of the loveless sobbing out loud.
Lost within this lifeless, bitter cartoon;
vowing silence through weathered piety;
grounded by a charcoal black moving sky;
my impudent world of a shackled life
Following justice to the final bell;
shaving some ice for a tequila sunrise;
dances and glances circling lofty despots;
vulture of consciousness devours my prize.
Ravens working magic using pastel colors.
The insolence inspired by a day long since gone;
walk your pathway standing, never kneel or crawl.
Renewing a warm light within your breathless moan.
Nocturne of shadow
rising with a Flamingo
charm of darkness
turns a reddish haze
prone on the pillow
cherished teacup pouts
hushed morning sonnet
a gaze into life's window.
Ken Allan Dronsfield is a Published Poet originally from Hampton New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He has been writing for many years and enjoys hiking, playing guitar and spending time with his cats Merlin and Willa. His published work can be found at numerous print venues.www.whispersinthewind222.blogspot.com/