The sun erupted
Light rose like erosion
To wash away
The night’s collection
Night Songs
Her lips were like silk sheets
Wrapped loosely around my mind
Aboard a magic carpet
With our hearts intertwined
Science Fiction Haiku
Alien attack
Insects did not understand
One-inch invaders
New robots for sale
With feelings or no-feelings
I could not decide
Aliens launching
Sent inhabited comets
Like a Trojan horse
Cosmic waterfalls
Turned into streams
Of stars
The end of the world
She took a long time to dress
We both arrived late
Eruptions On Io
Material shoots out to space
With no audience
Alien hunter
Shooting at me in the woods
Orange coat season
Wind Dance Green
Trees dance
With each other
Some dance close
Some far away
Others sing
While others sway
Then settle softly
Till the wind
Kisses them again
Music Of Nature’s Wings
Hear the sounds and music of nature’s wings
Birds calling from the branches and the sky
A classical song of hidden starlings
The knock of a woodpeckers as they try
Sparrows in a willow the chorus sings
The hummingbirds buzz as flowers they pry
The orchestra plays on, the chamber rings
Birds calling from the branches and the sky
Onward they soar, despite what weather brings
Notes of a migrating flock passing by
High in the clouds screeches of eagles cry.
Majestic hawks join and predator kings
Hear the sounds and music of nature’s wings
Inside Sunset
Sun peeks into
Cracks between blinds
Dust infected rays stream
Across room light to light
Cloud mixed colors glow
Right outside the room
The Right Size
When stepping down on that bug.
Did you think his wife would miss him?
Perhaps the children affected.
Was the subject to small to matter?
Or just to small, to have feelings.
Desiring life, what size does that start at?
What height is needed to reach a dream?
Do insect threat small forms in their eyes.
The way we have since rising from the dust
Or does mixing among dirt and mud.
Bring a bonding of a certain kinship.
Denny E. Marshall
