Morgan Michaels Poems

Miggi snorted.

'This dusty old thing? It's from my father-in-law's library'.
...

While Miggi recovered, Langley continued to case the purloined guide.

'Mira! ', he said, moving from the sunny lawn to the shade of a mulberry tree. He held the pages open to a sort of picture glossary at the book's middle.
...

Again, bittersweet love
your burr beneath my tongue
my sluggard blood sings
my heart bursts into flame
...

Reports have reached my ears that you are cruel
and apprehend the damage that you do
that countless sleepless nights to you accrue
and many stand in line to play your fool.
...

The pangs of Tantalus in Hell
compared to mine are mild:
the pomme that fled, the lake that fell
the thirst that drove him wild
...

Gray bird with the iron-red tail
I like you better than morning
True, you are less colorful but more talkative-
though certainly messier.
...

They stopped and stared ahead to where a patch of hot blue appeared in through the treetops, billowing tautly.

'Bamos' ordered Miggi, gesturing ahead.
...

So many feet shuttling up and down
have shuffled them smooth
each pale step, scooped in the middle
and worn to a gleaming spoon
...

'Hi', she said, offering her hand. 'Mademoiselle Jeanette'.
Toby bowed. How pretty she was!
Mademoiselle Jeanette continued:
'Are you a clown or an acrobat'?
...