Oh Darling, Oh Daisy
As pretty as a pink peony,
Yet, your petals are wilting, dear,
Stems a little frail, wracked.

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As sharp as a red rosy,
Yet, don’t they see, dearest,
Thorns tracing those fragile strands?

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As sweet as a light *****,
Yet, don’t they see, dear?
Tears slipping, draping a silk on your chest.

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As clever as late Nancy,
Yet, is your nectar still
Sweet as hot honey

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
Ask of the flies, just once, dear,
Do they taste the bright red
Of copper candy?

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As graceful as old lacy
Do you dance, dear,
To the screams that hum a melody?

Oh Daisy, Oh Daisy
As naive as a little daisy,
Are you certain what awaits you?
Dear Daisy.

the beauty of rising sun
shines through yellow flora,
green leaves swaying
breeze of gentle wind,
Bees buzzing, swarming
feed their chosen supreme
butterflies arise and surprise
gracefully flap to the skies,
Ants emerge from their hives,
work so hard, such short lives.....

This is for a local band. First part of 3. There will be no choruses.
It will be an french/italian kind of song.

I open my eyes, a dream wearing thin
your perfumed breath settled into my skin
I follow your path, to your voice I’m sworn
a grasping hand that’s been struck by your thorn

you plucked me away in twinkling night air
unweaving a shattering love undeclared
no root could hold on, no voice would remain
so I myself turn, and drift now away

there is no return to roads left behind
just a dew glistened path-the pull of time
no crown, no grave, no prayer left to free me
here lies a rose which no king would envy

Stolen by the wings of a canary,
Soaring through clouds
And weaving through hidden canopies,
Is a song known only to the sun
And certain flowers.Trapped, the song pleads
In early morning
And in the dusk of shadows:
"Hear me sing, O lonely forest!"
Yet no one answers her call.

Frantic, the canary ruffles her feathers,
Searching for a single ear,
One soul to hear her precious
Color held captive.Yellow stole the canary,
Its hue seducing her,
Staining her white genesis golden
Through months of dancing
With swaying southern honeysuckle,
Chasing the setting sun,
Soaking in every sweet note
Of yellow’s orchestra.

Defeated, she finds a secluded tree
Atop a barren mountain
And sings one final time:
"Hear me sing, O lonely earth,
For I have claimed your light as mine!"
She spreads her petite wings,
Each feather a ray of sunlight.
"Hear me sing, O mighty mother,
You alone have listened..."

Then, the canary weeps,
Her tears dropping notes of yellow,
As her feathers fade to pristine white,
Unblemished by envy’s hue.
At last, she finds her own song,
Whole in its quiet truth.

Maple moon
Her Exquisite Beauty kisses
The raw earth
And Vineyard sky of Our love
The clouds are no longer
Mere clouds
They are Gypsy ballerinas
That waltz
With Jazz Nightingales wings
Lost in the Moonlight
Their Mermaid depths
As the Rain Sweetly sings

Reynaldo Casison

"hi there,
I'm here to confirm your death
this is your last chance- speak now or forever hold your peace!"
(writes ‘patient lying in bed with eyes closed. no signs of life. identity confirmed.')

"i'm just going to perform a few tests
can you hear me? (she shakes them, inflicts one final pain)
does this hurt?"
(writes 'no response to verbal cues or supraorbital pressure')

"i'm just going to have a listen in to your chest"
their heart is finally still
not broken, or aching
lungs empty,
forever breathless
(writes 'no heart or lung sounds on auscultation, no carotid pulse on palpation')

“i’m just going to shine a wee light into your eye)
she pries open their lids and looks for life,
finds the same every time
empty tunnels gazing above
eyes wide open, taking in what comes next
what horror? what wonder?
(writes 'pupils fixed and dilated')

“that’s us all done now, they’ll take you down to the morgue”
uttered to a body waxy and fixed
often warm
hands held by so many
now forevermore empty
('death verified at/on')

and then-

she strokes their hair, the way their mother did as they were laid in her arms
gently closes their eyes
traces a cross on their foreheads
tucks them into their deathbeds
leaves them to sleep

God, have mercy, on this your child
for you know the life they lived,
you made and dreamed of them
be with those they left

God, be kind
I hope you are at peace
Be at peace

Some poems
                     Offer reflection
                     Memories
                     On still water
                    
Some poems
                     Become the water
                     Converse
                     As ripples
                     In a breeze

Some poems
                     Become infectious
                     Inflame emotion
                     Penetrate your skin
                     Have a half life
                     That lasts generations

Her eyes have never looked more dreamily
Lovely, compared to mine and my tusks
yellowing and with skin feeling rougher,
as her's only gets so much smoother.

You'll think at the age of forty-seven,
she'll be less the sight of heavenly
And her blushing cheeks at the Tavern,
has me feel a school-boy again.

I'm glad I run into her after decades,
She had barely changed since youth
& my crush back then begins to craves
A few drinks keeps me from flustering
& her snow white skin & cheeky grin
has me thinking what could have been.......

Its amazing how the rowdy atmosphere
can still lead to silence between two
and a coincidence of the past and here,
leads to a reunion of a balanced fall.

When the drop is steep
And stomach needs filling
Not wanting to let you down
That feels unavoidable
Chasing affirmations for myself
Want to wake up earlier
Just tend to fall asleep late
Started to notice the flowers more
Maybe because they have blossomed
Doesn’t always feel like that
Winter dragging into spring
Autumn death apart from living
Feeling tired spiralling out of control
Back inside the same confines
You used to spend when you were young
Still very much the same kid
Just with a growing responsibility
Weighing heavy upon my chest
Armour which protects and limits
Trying to break the chains which jangle
Feet dragged walking the city streets
Wanting to say hello rather just rake the leaves
Go about my work in silent peace
Enjoying the solitude of the garden
Tired of not crying would like some tears
Weeping like a child loses its appeal
As you realise what you have to do
Need to take the initiative and start living
Make something of myself