***
When you think
Maybe, we ~
Are
Forlorn
For the time-
Being cruel to us
In most heartwrenching
Wonderful impossible
Way
love, Love, _
Never was I yours
To come at your
Thresholds
Blushed a little bit
Over my sunlit cheeks
Holding in my hand
A Damascus Rose
For my beloved~
For you
A jazzy blues done
None plus no one
Gets the whole bush
Unless walking hand in hand
Through garden divine
Loving
Like
Icecold queen n' king
Siddharta within our seams
Yet, I turn in my dreams
And look straight
In those lovely
Flames
Portruding in me
Fireflies lit
For me
To you
Cosmos exists as a play
Of darkness through
Light
Hurting me
Again
No
More
~~~~~~
Please
~~~~~
For a begining
You gently touch
My wrist, holding
It with desire
And say
- Here
You
Are -
My twin~flame!!
A
Long
Awaited
Wonder
This Day Is
Magnetic
Grip
. . .
Unutterly
Unyeilding
Pulling me close within
Your chocolate
Emerald wisdom
Vishnu Inevitability
Embrace
Emitting radiance
Embraced for as long
As we need to please
The almighty & amazing laws
Of physics
Nodding
In approval of
.
.
.
Weeee-_-omens
***
= =
Woed by
Thunderous pounds
Blood in our veins
Burning like the
Ocean waves
Rhythmic pace
Dreamy foams as
Satin
Lace
Overwhelming Us
Courageous
Navigators of
Our starry midnights
Building the arch of
Invisibility
For the rest
of the
World
Our tent
Under satin~silk
Is heavens
A
Relationship
Beautifully
Playful
Extraordinaire
& Serene***
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
For the Chipmunk in My Yard
By Robert Gibb
I think he knows I’m alive, having come down
The three steps of the back porch
And given me a good once over. All afternoon
He’s been moving back and forth,
Gathering odd bits of walnut shells and twigs,
While all about him the great fields tumble
To the blades of the thresher. He’s lucky
To be where he is, wild with all that happens.
He’s lucky he’s not one of the shadows
Living in the blond heart of the wheat.
This autumn when trees bolt, dark with the fires
Of starlight, he’ll curl among their roots,
Wanting nothing but the slow burn of matter
On which he fastens like a small, brown flame.
From What the Heart Can Bear by Robert Gibb. Poem copyright ©2009 by Robert Gibb. Reprinted by permission of the author and Autumn House Press.
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