Day Break by David Hart

Daybreak by David Hart
Daybreak Day break.
The yellowing-yawning
sun doth
now Emblazen
a jigsaw horizon.

Color feasts of
yellow-orange
bedizen the once
nigrescent/purple sky.

Birds languish
in a warm toasty
breeze amidst
undulating greenery
chirping their loving ado.

A fat frog primps
and cleans His bug-eyes
with his
Wet-winding slimy tongue.

Someones and no ones
will ever Be after one's name,

Nothings and somethings
will Never be in the game.

Perched on a polite park bench
Without a serious care

O, tantalizing life. Someone
in a war-trench under
fire isn't thinking
about military rank.

O, enigmatic life
bestead my
then-times reticent
tread whence I pontoon
down the cold
River Styx.

An instinct to trust
Tends to go bust,

An instinct to reject
Mayhap a time to reflect
wanting always to trust
alwaysing hoping
for a love to confect.

The evers will say their nothings

The sames will cherish their somethings

Anon, one hopes to avoid
all prickly little stings.

Help, caresses,
love and fame
ever nothing
to be to their name,

NEver something
to be their
wailing Claim.

Sometimes ideals
erode effortlessly
in pain,
sometimes in short-lived
winds of fame.
Hart2008USA