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Best Poems From
BEN GIESKE
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125.
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A Rattlesnake Moon
Have you ever, he said, seen a rattlesnake moon?
Never, ever, I said. What’s a rattlesnake moon?
One that captures solar light, soaking up its heat.
Surely, I said, I have seen that rattlesnake moon.
One that holds you tight with its swoon of dreamy light.
Oh, I said, I’ve been bitten by rattlesnake moon.
One that strikes, injects you with the bite of love.
Yes, I said, a victim of a rattlesnake moon.
One that shuns the clouds driving the shadows away.
That, I said, could not be a rattlesnake moon.
One that sheds it skin at night, bedevils in black.
How, I said, I gladly miss that rattlesnake moon.
One that frightens daylight out of you with delight.
Ah, I said, Ben told me of that rattlesnake moon.
- April 4,2008
Pulbished by The Ghazal Page online
Go to: www.ghazalpage.net/2008/moon_challenge/2008_moon_radif.html
Ben Gieske
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126.
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A Rattlesnake Moon (Ghazal)
Have you ever, he said, seen a rattlesnake moon?
Never, ever, I said. What's a rattlesnake moon?
One that captures solar light, soaking up its heat.
Surely, I said, I have seen that rattlesnake moon.
One that holds you tight with its swoon of dreamy light.
Oh, I said, I've been bitten by rattlesnake moon.
One that strikes, injects you with the bite of love.
Yes, I said, a victim of a rattlesnake moon.
One that shuns the clouds driving the shadows away.
That, I said, could not be a rattlesnake moon.
One that sheds it skin at night, bedevils in black.
How, I said, I gladly miss that rattlesnake moon.
One that frightens daylight out of you with delight.
Ah, I said, Ben told me of that rattlesnake moon.
*This was published online by The Ghazal Page in July of 2008.
See:
http: //www.ghazalpage.net/2008/moon_challenge/2008_moon_radif.html
Ben Gieske
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127.
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A Rhyme of Hours
- after reading “A Rhyme of the Sun-Dial”
by William Bell Scott
The clock runs on, ‘tis but half-past one”
The baker’s done, all buns eaten but one.
After a nap, ‘tis but half-past two:
Never too late to prepare the stew.
Like a new day, ‘tis just half-past three:
Still much more to do for you and me.
Surely the sun knows it’s half-past four:
The paper is slung against the door.
My stomach tells me it’s half-past five:
There’s other goals for which we should strive.
It’s news on the tube at half-past six:
All can see that good and evil don’t mix.
Midway through and ‘tis half-past seven:
Paddling Rick Steves down the Severn.
The night is young even at half- past eight:
We make our choices, don’t believe in fate.
The die is cast and it’s half-past nine.
There’s still time to discern the sublime.
It’s getting late, ‘tis half-past ten:
Checking again if e-mail was sent.
Day almost spent, half-past eleven:
The pillow so soft, dream sleep ‘til seven.
A new day is born, now half-past twelve:
Morning bells will ring wishing us well.
- July 23,2008
Ben Gieske
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128.
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A Short Country Drive
along the roadside
black-eyed susans
waving hello
blackberries
at the roadside
remembering Mama
horse flies swarming
cows udder high in water
mooing for raintree clouds
flowers in the field
fleet faces in the crowd
waving good bye
Sept.29,2007
Ben Gieske
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