Two Poems from My Notebook

 On Keats' Ode to May Fragment

The mayflowers scent
The forest. My verse
Legendarium--left
To a little clan
As I die upon
the grass one glorious day
Passed down through
Twenty generations--
No, Ten Thousand!
Yet, my little life
Of mad verse was sore
A legacy meant nothing
To me... only the fire
Of truth and a crock
Of lamb stew, fed
By the price of this labor.
What's more, if paradise
Does not open its
Door for me, and I
Not let in,---what was
This labor for but a
Noble pursuit of God's
Face? And if it will
Not be a guide for
Those seeking the same,
I am equally perplexed.

The Good Walk

I did a good
Walk... discussions were
Wide, and large.
Jokes, globalization,
Then we discussed
The historicity of the Bible.
Went down the line.
Discussion was robust.
Walking, I saw a 
Home with a camera.
It whistled and took
My picture.
I don't pretend
To know politics.
But I know I
Don't want my picture
Taken, while walking
Down the street.
I smelled the
Peonies, my Mimi's favorite
Flower--my favorite Roses are Peonies
But smell just like the Rose of Sharon
There is no thorn, but I'll still call them roses--
White and voluptuous were these
Like a rose,
But dissimilar.