Adventure by Ollie

A Search for Purpose in a Random World


July 2015

Pink Box of Delicacies



I have a pink box of delicacies

laced with vanilla filagree.

I enjoyed once myself alone,

Shared another with my chum –

her eyes  squinting with delight

(then we giggled all the night).

Next, I tempted, nibbling kiss.

Left him wanting more – his wish.

Saved the rest for someone special.

In my choosing, I’ll be careful.

Lace Work



The warm summer air circles

around and underneath

our garden hammock

while the lace work intertwines fingers –

this hand and that hand; inseparable.

Here in the Earth limbs mix together; hungrily.

Drip sweat in between the lace work.

Tree groans with the weight of swinging,

roots drink more deeply,

clouds shift easily in the bright blue sky.

The neighbors spy,

and one lady remarks to another; observation.

“Are they?”

“Yes, I think they are.”

One blushes.  The other leans in closer;

fogs the sixth window pane.  Sips tart lemonade.

Rubs the crocheted lace work between her fingers.

A man turns the pages of this paper; crisp.

The news, edgy, polite, demands no action,

only observation, and the passing of quick judgements –

“Cannot two people enjoy their own garden in privacy?”

he barks while rubbing his gold wedding band with his thumb.

No friction there, just smooth, round, comfort.

Is he made aware of the new high price of necessity?

The cost of living, property values, pressures rise.

He coughs, swallows, unsettled, and turns another page.




At Dawn



When you first wake from sleep, the Night has softened you a bit,

and you wear the curious, care-free expression of a child

with hair wind blown from the places she carried you;

speeding through the time travels of the night,

speeding through the multi-kaleidoscope light,

back to these soft-soft pillows of mine,

returning you to me, re-born

and nested in my arms.


Haiku No. 1 – 4



No. 1

Inherited weaknesses

under microscope appear

the pale distant stars of awakening.


No. 2

Bad weather

necessitates the cancellation of races

and earns the first place prize.


No. 3

The dieing seed

yielded to it’s final chapter

becomes the birth of being.


No. 4

The question pondered

highlights it’s own answer

revealing the heart’s hidden doubt.


Haiku No.5

A Beautiful Surprise: Poem



Capsized on street,

guts spilled – not neat.

The sweeper came to clean,

disgusted by the scene.

But one stooped low;

decided, “No.”

Picked up all parts –

lid, faces, heart.

Mixed up and broken

the box soft-spoken

was rescued in the nick

even though it was sick.

To be held in the hands of One,

and though broken to have won

the favor of One’s eyes

is a beautiful surprise.


How to Date an Alligator


Down below the river bank

and little limestone bluff

swims a twenty-two foot alligator

looking green and tough.

He is smiling up at me.

I’m looking down at him.

He licks his pretty pearly whites

– invites me for a swim.

“Come on in, the water’s fine.

Promise it’s not a lie.

If you join me you will find

you will be gratified.

Let me take you on a date

-I’ll nibble on your ear.

Such a lovely pic-en-nic,

we could have, my dear.”

I considered his invite

Oscillating none.

So, I nodded hungrily –

A date with me he’d won.

“With sweet smiling grins of yours,

Sir, how could I refuse?

I am sure that you can choose

to chase away my blues.

A swim sounds nice – how happily

we’ll play within the springs,

And I’m so sure we’ll find some time

for sumptuous nibble-ings.”

(That is the way one should reply

– polite, courteously,

toward all invitations kind

and gentle-manner-ly.)

And so I began to dive

into the water sweet

coil by coil, unraveling, all thirty feet of me;

wrapped myself around him thrice

and gave him a big squeeze!

Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: