Parental Advisory

Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we propose to posit prose-like poetry
forming a form of continuous connectivity,
to communicate considerable contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose-like poetry is what you’ll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft are wrought, and revealed thusly,
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

Fencing

Around our house stands our D fence.
I mean that now, in present tense, 
  it’s fencing that can be seen out back,
but out front, quite bluntly, fence we lack. 

D fences are required per rules
 regarding backyard swimming pools,
 lest kids returning home from schools
 fall in when acting out like fools.


Of itself, the fence is standing
still. Beyond, were tails demanding
view, two deer. My ears assailed
both doe and fawn along the trail.

To ears, 'two deer' may sound too endearing.
So I walked softly, hardly hearing
deer tails swish from left to right.
True tale, two tails were in my sight.


Mourning all the times our meeting 
passed us by, we fly. Our fleeting 
thoughts we ought not waste on hasty 
talk. We gawk, as if a tasty 

morsel forced upon our senses 
caused us pause at backyard fences 
near our fears of new encroachment. 
Change and Hope is what my vote meant. 

Now, I think the time has come for 
fencing words upon our front door. 
Swords are drawn upon these lines 
for reasons cut from sharpened minds. 



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