Harmonic Memories Of A Sunset Float: Revolutionary Blogging Sonnet

Oohm float sunset, July, Lake Winneconne, WisconsinGazing at her golden hair
and softly glowing skin/
made me wish I was again there.
A Midwest lake: I’m diving in.

I float in the sunset,
and lay there, half submerged;
half warmed by sun, half cooled with wet;
harmonizing breathing and chirping birds.

An hummed experience of oohhmmm that was new.
A sung peace that tuned my innermost core.
The harmonic returns again as I view
her golden-toned decoutage’ once more.

She somehow can carry within her calm face
the memories and tones of another peaceful place.

Who’s Behind The Librarian: Revolutionary IMprov IMbic Poetry

She erased it,
(that photo she took)
and replaced it
with one of her reading a book.

That’s ’cause she’s the Marion
who always claims she’s shy.
Beneath her veneer, she’s contrarian.
She doesn’t know why,
this somewhat naughty librarian.

If you want to look
she’ll hide her face in a book.
But hidden between Jane Austen’s leaves
are Tom Jones, and Greensleeves.

Though she’s gone libarian through life,
she’s been, underneath, really the Wife
of Bath.
(That will make her laugh).

But, unlike gap-toothed Alison,
this pilgrim would’ve settled for one.