Autumn Morn

Soft sod applaud
Geranium bold in face
Heated pink petals
Sugared with frost
Standing knee high
Blooms with pride
No fear born
In early winter’s desire
Frozen fate

E.A. O'Connell

Morning: Part II

Color has a taste and a morning song as well
Pink Himalayan sea salt
In hot bath water
Lotus blossom body
In frangipani oil
Fingers mingling with silken petal boats
Soft papaya lush on the edge of the tub

Sakura symphony of Lemongrass sinks within

E.A. O'Connell

Morning: Part I

Soft sueded pink hums a low glow
Sweetpea petals and seashell tunnels come to mind
Color has a taste and a morning song as well
Nesting on my windowsill

In topaz clarity and dusty earth clouds

E.A. O'Connell

I Knew A Poet

I knew a poet once

We were teenagers sharing corridors

He wrote with trench deep truth

Effortless and shaming

He was poet and poem

And painfully beaten by a society that broke men of this beauty

A handful knew of his damning talent

And any speculation that surfaced was eradicated promptly

Some secrets need to be buried he’d say

He was hardened and built for other uses

The anvil that could suffer for another’s trade

Bearing the searing flame and pounding hammer

But never acknowledged as it’s own art in sheer design and purpose

I knew this very poet once

And the pounding he accepted as the fuel for greatness
Still beats rhythm in my head 

E.A. O'Connell

November Fire

November vixen
Whistle in the sultry wind
Raining soft cleanse
Free falling, building steam
Tickling exposed neck 
With distant whispers
Trickling down my back
Fires were lit overnight
In toxic ripe berries hanging
And in maple plum 
The flames have begun the stretch
Soon to engulf
Ignited in the passion of time limited

E.A. O'Connell

White Jasmine & Mint

Wear me in your flesh
Not as ink
But as white jasmine and mint
So I may bloom within you each night
And remind you of warm comfort
When you feel you are at your weakest

E.A. O'Connell

Spoon

Parents always warn of the sharp blade of the knife and the pointed tines of the fork, but they never warn of the unassuming curve of the spoon…I learned this the hard way one night during a ginger grating mishap that left my thumb bleeding and stinging…and the first thought my mind went to was of you…. 

E.A. O'Connell