I want to breathe in the field,
Where the wind is warm,
And drink the air deeply.
It’ll be so awesome!

I want to lie in the grass,
Give up to the sun bliss,
And fall subtly asleep
In the shade of trees like in a kiss.

I want to inbreathe more deeply
The honey odour of flowers.
I want to hug the air
And be in there for hours.

I want to make it true!
I need it for being alive!
I'll hug the air! I’ll kiss the sun
And maybe I will revive!

another brooklyn afternoon
the sound of scamps playing below
and the passing subway roar
who can ask for more
on this brooklyn afternoon
the sunshine asks
what else in store
just the shadows of curtains
and trees if you please
tempering a fading sirening
back into familiar
hums of a city that'll
never appease
as an early spring evening
settles in to say it's alright
and so long to you and
everyone, and twilight
purrs on for us and anyone
always again.

Today there was rain,
It brought thunder,
Strokes of electric death.
Lightning ripped through the canopy,
Aiming for a defenseless flower field.
But alas, the elder oak reached its branches out,
To take the lightning's killer blow.
So when the rain passed,
We took our saws,
To finish the job.

Nothing compares to this spring time love,
Except for one single thing,
The love we'll have in summer.

Yet, even better than that,
The love we'll hold in fall,
Golden and aged like the leaves of oak trees.

But no thing could be greater,
Than the love we'll hold come next winter,
Sleeping in, your warmth by my side.

Room temp black tea,
Jingling house keys,
Little whispers of morning trees.

Quaint feeling of tranquility,
Walking among the preserved fall leaves,
A small nip of chill in the breeze.

Beneath the gulmohar tree
In flamboyant love
A tale of our desires
Coloring each other
A bright vermillion
Under his crimson spread
Shaded in blissful haven.

Reaching for his branches
Clasping, holding
Climbing, swinging
Chasing, laughing
Under a bright shower of scarlet petals
Of hearts and heat, of love and life
Blooms of a scorching Indian summer.

In flames, his vibrant burning crown
His canopy, flaunting festive tangerine blossoms
Crinkled teasing petals
One upright
Of quaint innocence in white
Splashed with  feisty passion's red
Celebrating and anticipating
In celebration of us, our love
Anticipating rain..
As his branches reach high for promising dark clouds.

Serenading with the music of the monsoons
Moist leaves of the gulmohar glisten
With wind and water, in gentle rhythm
Raindrops nestle for a moment
Before sliding, slipping
On damp, satiated earth
Strewn bright with scattered orange petals
Of the gulmohar
Drenched and soaked like us.

The palm trees
of the Moonlight
Are sweetly aspiring and tall
In the way they long like lovers
To Caress the Rose Gold of the Moon

Reynaldo Casison