Best Poem of H.L. Dowless

Merry Misadventure
The islands are callin', I got that endearing feeling,
the fish are biting and schooling, it's hurricane season.
The bohemians are gathering to paint, ponder and glorify
those hidden dimensions of life and the justifying reasons
for us to sanctify them.


Even at the time of the yuletide, those fine dames . . .
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A Vision Of Future's Glory
On a sofa of leather in the mentor's lounge I now sit,
pondering futures' test,
painting a portrait of my forward bequest
unto those majestic ancient warrior gods, whom shall allow it.


A stroll along a splendid tropical beach,
nine divine grass skirted native princes servants,
an agua de loca of . . .
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