Sweet Love

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His antennae

go whacko.  He is buzzed

and rapt.  His hairs stand

up on his toes as he twitches

his probing proboscis

for wafts of your blossom scent.

Richard Rensberry, author at QuickTurtle Books®

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High Hopes

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If I were a mountain,
I’d be rugged and tall
with my head in the clouds.
I’d be wild with rivers that whisper and roar;
I’d flourish with creatures,
forests, and storms. If I were a mountain,
my thunder would pound
hard as a hammer, crisp as the morn.
Come June, I’d flower
with poppy and glow. Come fall,
I’d showcase maple groves. I’d be orange and yellow,
red and bold. If I were a mountain,
I’d be capped in snow. I’d cradle a village
in a quaint meadow. I’d decorate Christmas
with evergreen spruce. If I were a mountain,
miners would sluice                                                                                                                                    their hopes and dreams from solitude.

From my upcoming book, The Wolf Pack Moon.   Richard Rensberry, Author at QuickTurtle Books®