Puck's Villanelle
by Dorothea Barth Copyright 2010
On whom does Puck his juice bestow?
Whose sprinkling ardor does ignite
Of late it's not on me, I know.
Saved perhaps for youthful glow
Where passion and desire alight
On whom does Puck his juice bestow?
May land above and not below
Dispersed in acrobatic flight
Of late it's not on me, I know.
The maiden doused but not her beau
Transformed to vapor in the night
Where Puck did once his juice bestow.
Now tossed with mischief, then to blow
Rare liquid falling not quite right
Of late it's not on me, I know.
'Midst chattering gulls in silver flow
He hovers, waves, and winks delight
On whom does Puck his juice bestow?
Perhaps today on me, I know.
Surfing
by Dorothea Barth ©2010
The lion surfs the strait
While Nathan surfs the net
A choice to contemplate
No need to hesitate
An appetite to whet
The lion surfs the strait
For one the wild must wait
There's quotas to be met
A choice to contemplate
Were he to extricate
He might just witness that
The lion surfs the strait
Insistent screen his fate
Cannot escape, not yet
A choice to contemplate
Such wondrous scenes await
The sea, the pinniped
The lion surfs the strait
A choice to celebrate
