BluestoneReview

Grandeur By Lenard D. Moore

Gardening By Lenard D. Moore My hands holding the rake now, my head hatless and my face sweating, I nod like hushed corn and walk back to the garage, steady, with the thought to write of the bright day, deepening, but the blossoms of promise as they could do, allure me.

I’m ready to write some lines that embody deep summer: yellow sun on the fescue, sunflowers erect as posts, and how fully laughter soars from front porches all evening around me like butterflies until night chirps with crickets.

Double Entendre By Lenard D. Moore Roy Ayers’ “Mystic Voyage” sails me as if I were an angler leaving this seat I harbor in streaming vibes this satellite’s tune so soft and smooth the feeling of happiness ripples through me—sternpost of my own ship yet I ride the current of rhythm rush to some distant shore after dark

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