By Thomas Page
279
A Pavlov’s bell rings
In the ears of the students
Who belt out old songs.
280
People speak fondly
Of ghosts who do not shine new
Lights of their being
281
Fear, like an unattended
Tea kettle, boils
With frightening power
282
Change is a flavor
Of happiness until it
Affects your palate
283
Sunny days often
Shine brighter after deluge
Of yesterday’s rain
284
Euphemisms like
A bloodied cloth over a
Slain corpse hide nothing
285
A delicate whack,
Like a lion’s roar, is still
Striking to the senses
286
Airplanes in the sky—
A streak red and silver ‘cross
Blue and white canvas
287
What are the colors
Of the palette of my eye?
Where’s my easel?
288
Does a quote say more
About its writer or its Chooser?
Cuckoo’s egg
289
Love, like the strings of
A guitar, wait for tuning
By a guitarist.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 