Nonsense Rhyme

Nonsense Celebration

What makes affinity

Is what makes thee thee

And me  me, she

she

And he 

free to be who we see.

Brothers, skin sisters, teachers 

and creatures

of habits and hobbits of chance shires colliding

traveling east south and north, 

up down back and forth

round the nautilus shell,

with a Maydance as well

for marsupial nuptials and manticore riding.

Babies in blankets and cousins with trinkets,

and mothers and uncles down under the table

with the seventeenth gable

set on a roof that covers ten countries where twelve-month millennials

are hardy perennials

that hide from the frost so nothing is lost

but the note of a name, a picture, a frame,

a face or a form,

above the black ocean

but there’s always the warm

calling look or the motion

of thoughts that reflect like suites in a deck.

Ten of hearts, ten of spades

Ten of clubs are relayed,

your knave is my jack, her king knows the knack

of trumping the queen

without any spleen, so the numbers can fall

in sequence and all

to build a card house and shelter a bard mouse

who wiggles and sings

while plucking small strings

'neath a cheese moon of white 

that lights the starred night.

And still in the dream a pink piglet team

pulls a coach made of gourds

to carry the hoards

on their long rainbow bridge above the dry ridge 

til that fey light shines free

for thee, she and me.

October 2010 revised 11/6