Miranda

[Baut Images: Tiny Dancer (Ebony Jewelwing)]

They call her Miranda
she's a tiny dancer
flitting from floor to floor.

She dances and whirls
Priouettes and twirls

floating like a cloud on the air.

The audience claps

as she ends her act

then starts up again, anew.

This time she's faster

as silver flashes

up around, then down to the ground.

But none hardly see

as her daggers she sheaths

and puts them well out of sight.

For who'd ever know

from Miranda's warm glow

that she had another agenda.

2012 Roger Allen Baut

Please note: This is a 'triplet' of image, poem and video. Please view all three as one compositon.

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I Hear Atlantis Weeping...

[Baut Images:  Atlantean Dreams]

I hear Atlantis weeping for her lost, lost Summer children,
Who having cast her aside for brighter gems and toys;
Left her to die alone on her once proud beaches.

Hear not her cries for help!
See not her withering lands, and forests, and streams,
Littered with the refuse of Man.

Hear O Ye People, hear the sighs of once fair Atlantis,
Hear her cries, as they ply the winds along Pacific Coast Highway,
And as she laments her fallen Summer children.

Children who see naught, but their own selfish needs.
See not the suffering of their brothers and sisters,
And the hungry and homeless roaming in-between.

Hear her now in the voices of approaching Autumn leaves,
Falling, ever falling from the hair of the fallen Summer children;
Lost in their food, and drink, and greed.

Children who now waste away in their hazy dreams,
Tossing and turning, and needing more and more;
Crying in eternities non-time, "Come back, come back again!"

I hear Atlantis weeping...
Lost Summer children...
Who cast her aside...
Left her to die alone...
On her once proud beaches...
Come back, come back again...

Roger Allen Baut
It's Almost Full Moon...

Note: This poetic art form consists of an image, poem and music video to lend it a 3-tiered/dimensional aspect to the work. Please consider all three parts when viewing this work. Thank-you! ☺