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.

That Walk

We took that walk, my friend and I, 
beside the bay; beneath the sky; 
beyond the sound; around the bend; 
to the park, and back again. 

We took that walk as the sun set 
upon the bay, my friend, my pet, 
my babe, my love. My God and I 
took that walk where eagles fly. 

We took that walk, and eagles soared
above us from the trees toward 
shimmering blue waves tipped white,
So we waved back, and said good night. 

We said good night but meant goodbye, 
because, my friend, the end was nigh. 
That walk we took was our last on Earth. 
So, now we know what that walk's worth.