Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
Hark, sounds of leaves cerise
from nearby trees downed
dance and scrape in caprice
blown low off the ground
Fall’s cooling wind
caresses my cheek
through trees now thinned
my forlorn tears streak
While watched Summer fade heavyheartedly
shall now relish Autumn tender-heartedly
Happiness but cloying
pinkish ribbon flown
flimsy & decoying
by fickle winds blown
While embracing Peace of Mind
steadfastly us anchor
Life’s most impeccable find
knows calm joy, not rancor
Happiness dallies in distracting
Peace of Mind lets us live exacting
On the occasion of Matt(eo), while staying in Tuscany, visiting Venice. What a Paisan!
Inside a shop in Peccioli
nestled in tight an alleyway
was Matteo munching cannoli?
No, on a Venice getaway!
Deserted hoi polloi
for glitterati
Smoothly he would deploy
with literati
where acing Palazzo dinners
with dizzying crowd of winners
+)
-paisan(o) = someone, here our son Matt(eo), who understands the significance of simply being Italian
-Palazzo dinner = https://quintessenceblog.com/inside-venice
What’s of essence won’t be understood
by merely verbal explaining
in Hollywood films, in Womanhood
or automotive retraining
What if insight happens unasked
but instantly fully grasped
finding ourselves jolted aghast
fully captivated, gasped?
So don’t cowardly sit out the dance
as Life may offer us a fresh chance!
My worn mind kept on churning
jaws clenched in face paling
ears & cheeks hotly burning
relived every failing
Aged humiliations amassed
kept The Now cruelly harassed
I could not bear in time left
to be held captive by The Past
Then, at last, found strength to heft
rebelled in too long suppressed blast!
Since having tamed The Past iniquitous
The Now been blossoming ubiquitous
Memories glaringly stoke
turns the Past over as by plow
while seems every pedal stroke
distracts me away from The Now
Riding the bike ‘memory machine’
brings on wondrous recollection
as if shown on refulgent wide screen
in stern fiat retrospection
Whilst as long as rotate the wheels
my mixed Past unflinchingly squeals 8
+)
squeal = to inform on
Life’s maddening throng
of importunity
with its hollow twang
of shrill disunity
While in fleeting stillness
we’re given the chance
at the flawless fullness
of Eternal Dance:
To be sensing the thrill
of Universe’s will
+)
importunity = persistence in solicitation
Movements lithely flowing
cheerful their sincerity
Complexion, hope glowing
infused by hilarity
They bring about deep affection
finding foothold on their path
in youth’s but fleeting perfection
shielded so far from Life’s wrath
Viewed from the perch of aging
found so deeply engaging
Relished the smooth ride home from the shop
trip home with steep hills seems just a hop:
Crystal crisp the shifting
Crankset, gears ticking
Handlebars uplifting
No foreign clicking
Tires whirl p.s.i. correct
hum of the well-oiled chain
Seating position perfect
I glide in the arcane
Wheels well spoked
tightly drawn
Pedals stoked
by brash brawn
All this combine to sweetly
boost the ride home most fleetly
Each morning fresh verse
incites my daily pace
For better or worse
each day another race:
A day that blithely sings
not one that mires mopingly
Its welcoming gate swings
fully open copingly
May our days be filled with grace
like flowers brimming their vase