There once was a Taoist from Taipei,
Who knew all one could know of the Way.
When asked for directions,
He'd state his objections,
"The way that can be stated is not The Way."
A Taipei Taoist’s Limerick
1
Rise & Shine [Haiku]
canna lily blooms
catch the light of sunrise as
stems sleep in the shade.
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DAILY PHOTO: Golconda Fort Ruins, Hyderabad
The Circle of Play [Lyric Poem]
Sometime not too distant,
There will come a day
When you will return to
A frequent state of play.
When that day comes around,
You'll have lost all concern
For the adults' belief that
Frivolity must be spurned.
You'll take to tossing balls
And climbing up the walls,
Just like you used to do
When you were one or two --
Before that human zoo
Got its hooks in you.
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“Silver” by Walter de la Mare [w/ Audio]
Slowly, silently, the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
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Moving Flower Mystery [Haiku]
trailside chicory
waves on a windless day:
a long-gone cyclist?
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Self-Cleaning Lake [Haiku]
fallen petals
swept by undulating waves
into a neat pile.
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DAILY PHOTO: Views of the Danube
Comic’s Limerick
There once was a peevish standup comic.
Whose war on hecklers would quickly go atomic.
A heckler said, "You suck!"
So, he hit 'em with a truck.
A response neither timely nor economic.
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“Fortuneteller’s Song” by Liu Yong [w/ Audio]
The maples have grown old;
Orchards have begun to wither.
The reds and greens have faded.
Climbing the heights, I
Feel the chill of late Autumn.
A ceaseless pounding sound
Drowns out the setting sun.
Remembered sorrows flock
To mind, making new sorrows.
We are separated
By a thousand miles;
From our two distant places
We can't even meet in dreams.
The rain stops, and the sky clears;
One can see the twelve green peaks.
Speechless, who could understand
My angst, as I stand cliffside.
I can write of my grief, but
Will the clouds bring a reply?
Tiger Riding for Beginners 