Night Ambush

Above our heads the night is glorious and  bright. 
Rain has relieved the fever of the day 
and compo rations stay the appetite. 
In all its nakedness the Milky Way 
provokes eternal questions which are quite 
above our heads.

Nothing must give our rendezvous away; 
the chilly stars are all our firelight; 
the music of the spheres our cabaret; 
we are as silent as the comet's flight 
above our heads. 

We are not creatures of the shining day 
but fall from shadows with a hidden might 
on foes unready or in disarray. 
We do not hate though theirs is not our way 
for fighting soldiers share a common plight, 
above their heads. 

We are not shepherds, only wolves at play, 
until we show the power of our bite. 
If angels come to speak they do not stay 
but leave among the noises of the night 
above our heads.

The Strider of Worlds

Where there are only bare and empty fields

he scatters stardust, drenching it with light.

He harrows every plot until it yields

a new creation worthy of his might.

His words are furnaces with fearsome blast

of metals born to bear his hammer stroke.

Niagaras of flashing stars are cast

to swirl in maelstroms where he trailed his cloak.

He walks in empty worlds, by barren seas,

globes clothed in fertile greens or airy blues;

in fragrant forests diligent with bees

where orchids dress up in outrageous hues.

Sometimes he talks with things that grow and thrive

upon these ashes, glad to be alive.

Limericks

Whatever you're writing is prose 
or it's verse; it depends how it flows. 
If it rings like a bell 
then it's music as well 
which is terribly hard to compose.

You must think and then carefully weigh 
every word lest your thoughts go astray. 
‘But', she said with a wink, 
‘I don't know what I think 
till I've seen what I happened to say'. 

A troubled young man said, 'I swear 
there is nothing to breathe, only air 
and to eat: only food 
so I go about nude, 
but for clothes I have nothing to wear'.