Bubbles

I swish the stick
To watch a spread of bubbles gleam;
Free and delightful they float
Almost a dream.

This pristine orbs,
A fragile yet audacious batch
Seem hopeless until they reveal
A rainbow patch.

They move away
And occupy a placid realm
To demonstrate the physics of
Cohesive film.

I notice soon
A strange geography revealed,
A surface spin of nations or
Plasmatic field.

Expectancy
That this existent play will stop
Makes any conclusion forgone
These orbs must pop.

As lovely eyes
They dare not recognize or wink
Because if excited they’re gone
Quick as a blink.

I stand and watch
Their glorious defeat, yet one
That wanders, hesitates then bursts
Succeeds to stun.

 

Iambic Pentameter

This meter holds what’s definite and sound,
Not prone to stray or frivolous caprice
For forward character precisely bound,
It can enjoy the elegance of Greece.
Initial choices fashion what proceeds,
Though any open line is tillable,
An indication of respect it needs
To accent each deserving syllable.
The path in sync as marching troops and bands,
With dual rhythm and a steady pace,
Its basic structure validates and stands
To give a worthy rhyme resulting grace:
If not as musical as songs of birds,
It minds its business with sufficient words

 

Michael Dashiell lives in central Indiana. Throughout his long writing career he’s had poems published in a variety of publications including Genesis, Poets of Now, The Evansville Review, The Blue Unicorn and The Society of Classical Poets. Other than this, he’s done seven books with Amazon. He’s active on Facebook and Twitter, and has also founded a website: literaryzone.org

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