Parental Advisory

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

Simply put, we pose this where
prose 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.

Stop Sign

Stop but for a moment. Now, 
thinking to past, remember how 
you were before, when you wore love sent 
by listening along to a covenant 
of cemented sounds of soul,
bound unto the heart you stole,
and wore uncaringly on your sleeve.

Take every thought you bore, and leave
unfettered and flawless, flying fast,
as if the gift of thinking to past
were passed between us, unseen somehow.
So, stop but for a moment now.