Jam and Cake


Time passes as if it were juice through a muslin
The blush of berry holds promise of what is to come
A lazy drool of liquid deigns to whet my appetite
The urge to surge the process sparks my arm

Time takes its’ time: noting that the method can’t be rushed
Melding of ingredients appear haphazard, but
What is to come depends on the correct process
The thermostat cannot be tweaked, the temperature is set

Rest, consider, plan: for, the good will come
It will pace it’s’ self to its’ own conclusion
You have no need to hurry
You effort will not help
Hush a by
@shilyot 20April2016 jam and cake

Sad. Tomorrow


Watching time
Slip away
Watching life
Limp into the sunset

Every way of life
In delicate detail
As it draws to an end

Fighters, battle
Crooners sing a lullaby
The simple minds accept
Their cruel goodbye

Stalling the inevitable,
The noble soul
Head, held high
Waves, a brave goodbye

Smile, my baby
Your peace awaits
Pain draws a curtain
On your sad tomorrow

Tears dampen the dry cheek
A craven smile
Paperweight emotion
Holds love down,
waiting for the dusky dawn.

©shilyot SadTomorrow 07April2016

My privacy


Quoting legislation, she sits: fingers clutching her Triceps.
Intermediary, referee, or chairperson: he knows, not.
Spouting her opinion, loathe to listen.
She knows not what she says.
Breaking into his reverie, brittle illusions.
Fragility tempered by the heat of time.
He, sits: turgid with venom, brimming.
She sits, puce, as the woman speaks.
Tears permeate from her lashes: defending his state.
She, she, he, she, she.
Emotions held in stasis.

©shilyot MyPrivacy 6February2016


1950s travelogue
Extended between 3 centuries
Sepia scratches
Mottled misty memories

My family unfolds
Blooming from the veneer
Subtle grey tones
Shimmer, unfocused

Blurred by emotive hand
Tears of memories
Love swimming
Foci framed by friends

Snapshots barely bigger
Postage stamp portraits
Smiling tears
Unspoken Love

Notes and motes
Of dust and lives
lost, love found
Journeys begun, since ended

Life in memoria
Life in a suitcase

©shilyot Suitcases 31March2016




Cat contentment:
curled, cornucopic, covering crocheted cat’s cradle.
Pink pussy-pinna, petalled: peaking pertly perfect.
Tail timorously ticking time. Trailing trouser-ward.
Furr purr burr. Waking: rabbit raiding, mouse marauding monster.

©shilyot Cat 29February2016



On the cusp of 30,  29 is neither here, nor there.
Let’s say: 28, has had its’ day; and 30 hadst best beware.
February’s been and gone, but left behind a preface.
Today is an addendum, for the month that has not suffice.

Winter hasn’t really been, and Summer is a speck.
February mops the brow of January’s fevered neck.
Setting time for month’s to come, the March of Spring to wonder.
February judders to a halt and splits itself asunder.

©shilyot 29nonsense 29February2016



Tracery in the Western sky,
A gentle thickening begins to fly
Crumbs of ash fleeing on the wind
Fluttering wings leave the lines behind

Murmuring feathers twist and beat
Scroll and tumult as the starling meet
The scrawling sky reverberates
Morse code of birds the dusk berates

Liquid ink paints the cloud
Cacophony of life, aloud!
Settling on the mossy roof
Apostrophe beaks remain aloof

As the amber fades to grey
The blackened roof calls it, a day
Gentle squabbles still and cease
An end to striving, a time for peace

©shilyot Starling 29February2016


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