Saturday, April 1, 2017

KEN ALLAN DRONSFIELD

KEN
ALLAN DRONSFIELD


THE VIOLET SHEEN

A thrill for sure, to dance upon the Moors;
during the Spring moon on a May twilight.
Smells found there waft about the breeze;
green pine needles and shimmering trees.
The gentle brook serenades a sweet view;
winding through grasses as trout dine upon
the masses of golden mayflies, as if on cue.
A peaceful radiance through a violet sheen.
A shy deer sneaks a peek from the forest,
within the marsh, rabbits spar with the fox.
Winner shall reap life's illustrious conquest,
another day gone upon this new equinox.
Of a mountain high; brilliant changing sky,
listening to the geese upon a final glide.
a kingfisher hovers above daring to dive,
into the pond; a striped minnow is eyed.
Time spent here in this wondrous dream,
Of where we’ve been and what we’ve seen
A simple piece of earth, within an expanse
under the joyous dance in a Violet Sheen.








WITH TORN SAILS

Wild rambling rose of ocular bloom
salted crackers served with tequila
worms hide from Robins on the lawn
ripple chips best to have with clam dip
swirling icy vortex of inebriated candor
toast with Jack and shovel down ramen
pin stripe gray suit with a flamboyant tie.
I've lost all sight of that ruthless treason
reverent hide behind a purple pious cross
Expedia searches for a ticket to nowhere
the kibitzer only charges two cents a day
eyes shining a scarlet glow during twilight
with darkness arrives the blood red moon
the raucous dogs of war howl until sunrise
reprieve I concede as I'm left on a sandbar
adrift through a dispirited life with torn sails.








I DIED TODAY

I think I died today.
Staring at the bare walls;
a knife, a fork, a bottle and
red candle lay before me.
The sounds of blaring horns,
screeching brakes and shouting;
echo from a sweltering street
through a shaded open window.
The smells and hell of the city
permeate the entire room and
the fan in the corner just quit;
but...... I think I died today.
I laid there, on the old mattress,
sweat running down my face.
I dozed off for a bit, and awoke
in lovely fields of green grass,
with white crosses all about.
I stood and watched friends of old
toss roses of red into the grave,
landing upon a shiny casket.
I think I'm there, tucked inside
wearing my dark gray suit,
white shirt and my hated tie...
Oh yes, I died today, I just wish
someone could tell me why.


KEN
ALLAN DRONSFIELD


KEN ALLAN DRONSFIELD is a published poet from New Hampshire, United States who has recently been nominated for The Best of the Net and 2 Pushcart Awards for Poetry in 2016. His poetry has been published world-wide in various publications throughout North America, Europe, Asia, Australia and Africa. Ken loves thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night, and spending time with his cat Willa. Ken's new book, "The Cellaring", a collection of haunting, paranormal, weird and wonderful poems, has been released and is available through Amazon.com. He is the co-editor of the poetry anthology titled, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze available at Amazon.com. A second anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses will be released soon.

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