PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

~When Pyrocumulus in the Western Lands Bloom~

This early Autumn evening as I listen

to the cricket's 

"cree cree

cree cree

cree cree"

I imagine myself with cricket legs

and what a glorious noise

I could make if I rubbed them together

as I lie on my back in a shadowed lawn. 

Maybe after a while

a beautiful woman

who also has

cricket legs

will be attracted

and join me on the lawn.

Together,

the volume of the

glorious noise

will double,

and we will be happy

and she will

smile easily.

Our racket might very well disturb

the people for several acres around,

and cause them

to gather up guns

and dogs to hunt us down

to silence us, but as they near,

we will

SPRING INTO ACTION!

get up on our cricket legs,

and bound away into perhaps

a large field of tall corn

where we will lie, keeping

our legs spread apart

for the sake of silence,

and, while prone that way,

we quietly giggle

as I climb on top of you

and we proceed 

to fool around

while the people

urge their dogs to sniff

us out, but the dogs

don't really want to find us

because they consider us to be

too wierd and creepy to behold, while

to the north of us,

in these western lands,

pieces of the sun unwind 

from the forest there,

and pyrocumulus blooms.