yellow daises bloom
on my dried out back lawn
yet bees reap pollen

two butterflies flit,
on a vast green lawn searching-
no flower at sight.

Anchored in the ground
Little roots reach for nectar
That the rain brought down

Tiny drops swim through the pond
Rainbows dance across the lawn

I strolled out on the lawn and looked at the view
didn't I see Fleming, Steinbeck and Miller too
illustrious company in the fading light
and further, J. P. Donleavy was out of sight

They were commercial, deep, with ****** soliliquy
and down below, J.P. described a strange anomaly
let's write together, fight together like a ghost
when it's done, I'll tell you what I like most

I like Pirsig, Phaedrus with a bit of Zen thrown in
although have to be fresh without being maudlin
now sadness, pathos is a whole new ball game
every time that we write, it was never the same

Sadness for me was alone and different for you
we all agreed to differ as the sky turned indigo blue