Work in Progress

What whisper hides in this secret chamber?
What clandestine aorta lengthens the nerve?

You cross a tender wire to enter
the Van Gogh Café. The formal crows serve
from eleven til one. The chant specials
across the open sidewalk. It's clean air
over tomato soup in a regal
cup as you draw fingers through tangled hair.
It's bright freezing blue. The headlines are read.
You feel the whisper linger on the crown
that hangs heavy round the [3-syllables] seed....

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As that last line confirms, this really is a work in progress. Just trying to see if I can do this sort of thing again, and come close to making sense. Mike Snider will recognize the form I'm aiming for, and may well have some constructive criticism. I've got three lines to go; I need 3 syllables in that one line, and the third line might need another syllable.

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Michael Wells at Stick Poet Super Hero has just announced he will not be posting a Top Five for the next three weeks.

Whew! Guess I can turn down the heat a notch. I was scrambling to do a fair amount of poetry-related stuff toward the end of this week in order to make it into that top five.