David Billings' Poems

Songs of November

November is the dullest month,
It sings in shades of gray,
Yet I learn more from this sad month,
Than from the joys of May.

Late Autumn sings of summer heat
And of the Winters cold,
Spring’s ditties mute though they repeat,
Gay prophecies foretold

So as I sink into the snow,
November’s words I heed
The season’s teach more than I know,
Of January’s deeds.

© All Rights reserved 2011 by David Billings Nov 1 2011
Snow

On frozen eddies snowflakes swirl,
Tiny crystals on climatic curls
Like a billion dreams, each unique,
With wintered hums that chime like speech,
They sing of what was and is to be,
Like cobbler shops, Christmas cookies,
And conifers that reached the sky.

They fly like fairies to and fro,
These wisdomed pearls disguised as snow,
Until fatigued they do, alas,
Fall wearily onto the mass,
Like rain upon the sea so deep,
Of whitened cold and endless sleep.

© 1992 David Billings, All Rights Reserved


#302 Muttly Ontarion

I’m just muttly, muttly Ontarion
A label that the books say can’t exist,
But my mirror incites delirium,
My mute reflection quietly insists,
That pirates lacked permission from the Queen
And Vikings left to rot their settlements,
Those called Indians had never been,
To Columbus’s sub continent,
While I the Redneck’s long lost ancestry,
The story which taxation could not tell,
Adopts the cloak of famous mystery,
The past so dark can not future foretell
So I’m content to be a northern mutt,
Such pedigree the world can not rebut.

© by David Billings Nov 7, 2011