Ice-cream clouds
On the Rauheneck-cone
Lemon meringue
Light-grey painted canvas
For the crow’s flight
Stabs of pitch black
To stand out above the
House with overgrown ivy
Green copper roof
At chestnut tree alley
Near the Grand Hotel of
Sauerhof
Where Beethoven’s pain
Is reflected in the estate’s
Closure of 200 years of
History.
20 days and one have flown
Down the Schwechat’s brook
A potentially new Muse
Born from the flowers of the
Badner Rosarium
Her ivory body slipped from
The abundance of petals
Upon a love poem
Written in Southern lands.
Ice-cream sweetness on the
Tongue and mind
A flow of soft Don Byrd
Trumpet sounds.
Room 236 Peterhof.
Swiss Jazz.
Flow.wolF
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’18.
