Sorrel By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
Deer past the pasture walk a little bit faster,
And the doe to the east are still, and casted in plaster.
The chestnut, or the pines, on either side would distract from the grass or the furrowed lines the brightness of the twin boy, the spilling light my brother, Castor.
Though none the less gelded,
With bitter strokes of gray
And the sorrel packs his shiny roan with hay.
And the deer and the doe watch jealously as he lay.
Oh but wouldn't they!
Or might that be what the sorrel'd say?
He's vaunted and praised a simple boy, still sodden with play.
Grass-sick and tired "Amen" they'd say.
Oh but wouldn't they!
C'mon darling 'y know they would,
With shame and angst,
Oh yes they would.
The field was steeped into the heavens, like milk and honey
And the bees cared as much, as they thought it was funny!
Sprung up, knock-kneed from the daisies, 'cuz there's plenty.
As the doe and the deer revel in their envy.
"There's plenty!"
"So many Daisies it's a pity!"
"And the Weeds jumped at the chance to get up and growing!"
"So there's no need for this silly growling!"
"So there, there; that's that now won't you quit your prowling?"
©2000 - 2022, Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors. Visit My Home Page | Start Your Own Poetry Site | PoetryPoem [ Control Panel ] [ Today's Poetry - ALL Poets ] [ Search ]
| |