KEN ALLAN DRONSFIELD

KEN

ALLAN DRONSFIELD

THE VIOLET SHEEN

A thrill for sure, to dance upon the Moors;

during the Spring moon on a May twilight.

Smells found there waft about the breeze;

green pine needles and shimmering trees.

The gentle brook serenades a sweet view;

winding through grasses as trout dine upon

the masses of golden mayflies, as if on cue.

A peaceful radiance through a violet sheen.

A shy deer sneaks a peek from the forest,

within the marsh, rabbits spar with the fox.

Winner shall reap life's illustrious conquest,

another day gone upon this new equinox.

Of a mountain high; brilliant changing sky,

listening to the geese upon a final glide.

a kingfisher hovers above daring to dive,

into the pond; a striped minnow is eyed.

Time spent here in this wondrous dream,

Of where we’ve been and what we’ve seen

A simple piece of earth, within an expanse

under the joyous dance in a Violet Sheen.

WITH TORN SAILS

Wild rambling rose of ocular bloom

salted crackers served with tequila

worms hide from Robins on the lawn

ripple chips best to have with clam dip

swirling icy vortex of inebriated candor

toast with Jack and shovel down ramen

pin stripe gray suit with a flamboyant tie.

I've lost all sight of that ruthless treason

reverent hide behind a purple pious cross

Expedia searches for a ticket to nowhere

the kibitzer only charges two cents a day

eyes shining a scarlet glow during twilight

with darkness arrives the blood red moon

the raucous dogs of war howl until sunrise

reprieve I concede as I'm left on a sandbar

adrift through a dispirited life with torn sails.

I DIED TODAY

I think I died today.

Staring at the bare walls;

a knife, a fork, a bottle and

red candle lay before me.

The sounds of blaring horns,

screeching brakes and shouting;

echo from a sweltering street

through a shaded open window.

The smells and hell of the city

permeate the entire room and

the fan in the corner just quit;

but...... I think I died today.

I laid there, on the old mattress,

sweat running down my face.

I dozed off for a bit, and awoke

in lovely fields of green grass,

with white crosses all about.

I stood and watched friends of old

toss roses of red into the grave,

landing upon a shiny casket.

I think I'm there, tucked inside

wearing my dark gray suit,

white shirt and my hated tie...

Oh yes, I died today, I just wish

someone could tell me why.

KEN

ALLAN DRONSFIELD

KEN ALLAN DRONSFIELD is a published poet from New Hampshire, United States who has recently been nominated for The Best of the Net and 2 Pushcart Awards for Poetry in 2016. His poetry has been published world-wide in various publications throughout North America, Europe, Asia, Australia and Africa. Ken loves thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night, and spending time with his cat Willa. Ken's new book, "The Cellaring", a collection of haunting, paranormal, weird and wonderful poems, has been released and is available through Amazon.com. He is the co-editor of the poetry anthology titled, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze available at Amazon.com. A second anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses will be released soon.