457 and 458

He comes to find me where I sit, alone,

by night, when no-one else is e’en awake.

He is too compliment and kindness prone,

too giving and too quick to, fault, forsake.

He shows emotion without any qualm,

and tells exactly what he wants to say,

and tests a new-made proverb and a psalm

on my cold ears as night turns into day.

He pays with money that he doesn’t own,

and pulls from purses made from charity.

Feeds me from what his own tongue should have known—

a meal we share of trust and parity.

How close the drunk man is to he who ate

with both disciples and the reprobate.

~~~

There is a giant squid on Jupiter

whose eye is called a storm, and scarlet red,

and all who have the chance to look on her

will take her gaze with them where’er they tread.

Just as the sea enchants all those who look

for long enough to feel her magic spell,

the giant squid of Jupiter can hook

the gaze of anyone who sees her well.

“Where are her tentacles?” I hear you say.

They are behind her, reaching to the moons,

ensuring that they safely make their way

behind the Planet when his shadow looms.

And she would guide you, too, if she could reach;

and if she could, the solar system, breach.