Poem based on Three words

Only dogs could hear the crunch
of loose stone
and the hiss of air-brakes
swinging in off the bypass,
curtain sided carrier
of substances unknown.

George brushed cake crumbs
from his “keep on truckin” tee shirt
and drained the last dregs
from his coffee stained flask.
He liked to work alone
wallowing in the cabs clutter,
paper work became fresh floor mats,
delivery note were used as plates
for hot buttered transport cafe toast.

Two drums he had to drop
no label’s, no questions for cash
just the way he liked it.
A delightful, quiet spot,
above the village beside a beck.

The drums where a poor design,
the lids splitting open
as they hit the tree lined hedge,
contents glugged like eels into the long grass,
soaking the substrate,
slithering soluble into the water course.

The surface of the village pond
broke with fissures,
bleeding silver under a sharp black sky.
The capsized eyes begged mercy under the moon
who cried a chemical curse,
the faith of the fish would be rewarded.

Another late night drop
George was nervous
the night filled with moonlight brought caution
and irritation,
he snatched at the last drum
and slipped.

Pinned by his unsecured load
a scream crossed sheep covered fields
dropping distant to the ear of a working dog
tired from the days obedience,
it growled quite in its bed.

Acid claimed his face and chest
eating flesh,
one eye survived longer
than his windpipe.

As he thrashed the damp night air
in to his veins, clouds swam
to their mother the moon,
shadows returning to darker pools,
streaking down empty streets
crossing farmhouse rugs and rooftops
spilling over sleeping dogs.

As George's heart gave out
the clouds parted,
nature had found its balance
all calls had been answered.

From us, does it run? To tease us with its allure and burden us with dreams we might some day tame.
Or from it, are we the ones who make hasted feet? To avoid our mortality and break free from knowing some day it will end.
No matter the circumstance, us, time, locked in a fleeing dance.

In its hand, we're held, magnificent and bold. Arches in the sky, a lick of paint from mother nature's delicate stroke. While consumed, or consuming, time reveals to us the art of everything.

But our gain? It seems intangible. Like tasting the stars, or hearing blue. We borrow, or lend what is to be had from, or given to, those who fit the bill. To consume more divine art, or plate for another: time: currency of the soul.

These are the days
  When our faith is tried
When our hopes and dreams seem to fade away
It’s the unending journey
  Of life lessons as a guide
When we return to our cores beliefs and pray

These are the days
  When we look to the stars
With the belief something out there will come along
Humanity is at the fine line
  Between peace and war
But it’s when we must learn to be resilient and strong

These are the days
  When the spirit is tested
When our imagination lets us travel to any place
A time for reflection but
  Our laurels must not be bested
It’s the time refocus because these are the days

Chapter won: Fleeing is believing...

Time skiing rhyme fleeing crime spreeing; climb being;
 Wow!.. Now eye'mmm seeing she was onLee
 a mythological creature...
 She was real win quill stood still;
This sew logical feature... Mystical dodge Bic ball seizure like life's a gaME OWe what ashame; to ride two tame was not the aim...
Eye asked fore a name and she claimed; "Unbridled"
Sew eye made up sum title;
Now she's "Charity" unrivaled...
WoW she's a rarity none survival two the untrained eye...
Wingspan swing and half ring scan the unstained sky...
Lee show below stain glows ass reign grows mane flows rainbows...

Chapter Too: Sum Wear Over the Rainbows 🌈

Her reign shows rainbows ass brain grows... The heir blows threw her hair width the same flows... She wore black and white inks width bright pink stained clothes... Real life "still life" chained toes to scary trails end fairytales... Swishing tails in wishing wells;
*Scripts amazing
Lips still grazing on prarie shells...
She's every girl's fantasee daydreaming on canopy beds...
She 🙏 pray scheming; lay creaming
Ass sanity spreads;
Butt can it be leads?.!
What planet sea REaDs?..


Chapter Thr33: Charity Stripes...

Like free throws; she frees soul off Merry-Go-Rounds...
She soars more off ground and
She barely goes down...
Lee's very profound;
Butt
eYE See what yoU are thinking ofcourse;
Charity was nothing butt a stinking club horse...
Unless you believe in the source read;
We ScEnE leads...
Or the horse backriding; while force backsliding wild course track hiding between legs...
Now eYE Smile; back writing the Norse ode end  morse code:::::::
Pen horse rode in YoUnicorn clothing...
Mirage in her lodge YoUnique form posing...
Sew pen open spacious gracious Oasis...
Oh; hey sis!..
Her Uniform was a YoUnicorn...
Eye wipe my eyes then realize;
Still know surprise;
Charity begins at horn...

L€€thal 2020