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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  12/19/2014 8:19:00 AM
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A drowsy sun has closed his eye
Leaving me in tinted twilight
Hemorrhaging color by degrees
until I stood in blue-black night.
Dusk is the darkest of twilight
where sights and sounds become adverse:
a contrived unreality,
imagination unrehearsed
and interspersed with primal fears.
Harmless shadows act out phantoms
conjured deep within my psyche.
Howls and hoots: night sounds most fearsome
Quasi-influential fancy
when dusk attains ascendancy.
Albert Ahearn



Dying Love

Our love, once like two vibrant leaves
Vigorous, lively, and vital;
Both clinging in a summer breeze
Beautiful and ornamental.
But time passes and our love died
Not unlike autumns foliage
Losing its vivaciousness-dried,
Withering in an outdoor stage
Where the slightest breeze sets them free
And separate but to perish.
Our love like the leaves on the tree
Where once it had thrived and flourished
Now a feeling in its last throes
Feebly lingering to let go.
Albert Ahearn



Early Falling Leaves

Autumn is not technically here
But it has arrived nonetheless
With brown crisp maple leaves and their
Imagined conspicuousness.
Each with its own conformation:
Some taking forms of tortoises
As they swirled downward in the sun;
Others twirled like ballerinas
In a sleeping beauty ballet.
Most fell unassumingly down
Nevertheless, quite a display
For a mere poet on the ground
This Sunday morning unrehearsed
Depicted in a poets verse.
Albert Ahearn



Early summer scene

The sunrays showered the treetops
pooling little puddles of light
on the predominance of shade
that claimed the beaten path below;
seemingly ebbing and flowing
caused by the rustle of the trees.
Tiny cabbage white butterflies
in their spiral flights dip and rise
ostentatiously frolicking
amidst the warm illuminates
occasionally alighting
the myriad garlic mustards
that dominate the ground layer
laying their next generation.
Albert Ahearn
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn