Poetry as Called For

Hues of Tunes

Playful sounds
Cadences, jumpy nonetheless.
Also, secure:
Not so much as to smugness
But more of lying in wait–
either for a lover or a comrade,
companionship that knows no strife.

Or a good book, where
the eyes satiate themselves;
far-flung places, unreachable but still
very much auspicious–

sense, sight
in the midst of coffee, chatter
(nonsensical at times or otherwise)

with multitudinous notes

until humanity in all its cosmopolitan air
is drenched in almost ambiguous tunes and its hues–


Choleric-melancholic, blogger, teacher, mental health advocate, book lover.

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