FENCE MUSIC

Grating, lattice, railing,
The clackety-clack is impaling
A symphony on the pickets;

Pods float, ova bloat, bracts waft,
The knots in the fence are the notes of the staff:
Polyphony in the thickets.

A FIGURE OF PORCELAIN

The passionate ceramicist stamps his foot;
The figure of a seraph he's smashed to boot;
The bonfire of the vanities coats him with soot.

The model-breaker battles his rue taken root;
From ill-fated trysts, burned in vain pursuit,
Some scorching mouths kissed have left him mute.

Insomniacs, somnambulists alike have taught
That curses and animus are all for naught;
What does it matter if he cries out or not?

Inside the kiln's sintering mists old love's still hot;
The firing figurine persists
In fusing what he seeks and sought;
Like Paris's motto she lists,
"But sinketh not."