Rondeau
With not a sigh a tear or care
In gentle arms of midnight dare
Where dreams of wildest breeze elope
Roams twilight’s bless of softly hope
Toward an acquiesce of share
Warm snuggle now in cashmere bare
Suggestive of their sweet affair
A passion dance of thrill devote
With not a sigh
Tho drawn a more attentive pair
His smoulder deep, her raven hair
A love explored of wordly cope
For love there is no antidote
In mingle destiny’s somewhere
With not a sigh
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
I made a bed for you by my fire
And tended you when you were low
I rubbed your tired shoulders with listen
You massaged my fingers with know
Pas de deux fell the light on our rhythm
As we drew velvet drapes ’cross our view
Cobbled streets of our Paris grew silent
as the dream we created came true
We danced by our fire dressed in tender
Sang songs sweet and low in our head
You touched my heart with your question
and our story we drifted to bed…
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
So sad the song
that no one hears.
As words of meant
fall on deaf ears.
And hearsay beats
unruly past
for those of mute
with tongue half mast.
I see you now
I’m the canary
remember?
That warns of impending
in fidget dilemma.
The candle is lit
by a woman so strong.
Kudos to you
So sad is the song…
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC
Somewhere between cradle and grave.
Where sway is a true Libran.
Weights are shifted
back and forth
to keep a balance.
And I lost mine.
and tho my stance
tilts
as does a tip toe.
As a ****** walk way
over gushing flow.
Where externals
mimic
an outstretched horizon.
I’ll not be propped.
This is me.
This is me here.
This is me there.
Curious…
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
We could, you know!
Once more
trip as we did.
To that place
our place.
Where smiles fall from the curls of our corners
as slow motion tickles of delight.
Of stories, sweet as sticky taffy
that taste of far off.
Spices and lingers that whet our whistles.
Let’s spin our globe.
Follow our dreams.
Precious little our wares.
We could, you know…
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 6:49 AM UTC
You..My tangled divine of tender thought.
Deep passions planted as twilight’s homage.
Et al, wrapped bare as Dionysus dream.
Twist we do as sunny side up we are.
And you are, sheltered from the inclement of ever so frosty.
Espalier. Me.
You…Of lush growth, green assured.
and so, cajoled by mindful ****
A peek-a-boo folly as seasons fortify.
Oh that of my ripe full body, dare, gather me.
Plump select as moonlight crush, in barefoot belly dance.
Age. Me.
You…Fine sup you are of blend mature.
That of cork once popped.
de stilled a few times.
Knows yet, that as me…
Were I to put a label on you.
Well…
You would be a great vintage, with just a whiff of attitude.
Raise. Me.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
I pricked my thumb on sunshine
And it bled a bright new day
I ****** my essence through your song
Held you closely to my sway
We 'pinky promised' everything
Rode the spiral to our mind
Brought a stillness to each other
Shook our heads at our choice find
I crept in upon your bed sheets
Dropped my guard in disarray
Looked inwards to our vacant lot
Your feast was my way lay
We bathed naked in the moonlight
Sang thoughtful words of share
I cauterized your bleeding heart
We made love without a care...
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
Let’s pretend its kismet
I’m not opposed to that
We can meet in the piazza
Have ourselves a chat
You’ll know me by my red dress
That I have chosen for this day
And the trio serenading us
Will see our voice in sway
You may order coffee
A latte for me please
Maybe we can break some bread
Fon due our talk with cheese
Pigeons on the cobblestones
Will flap their wings in pray
Lovers smile a knowing
As we hand in hand our day
You may bring your camera
To mark this fait accompli
And I’ll scribble in my notebook
My Je t’aime, mon chéri…
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 4:30 AM UTC
"Go on", prodded the elbow.
Allow the weep that nocturnes with the hum of a thousand trapped butterflies;
puddle in their escape through tear ducts once blocked.
Howl and trickle with a presence of mind and let proud the sob as the waft
of spring onion, wild and potent, fumes in displace.
Foetal in a pool of rusty violin strings, that in gesture of their fanciful flight,
rock amongst the reminisce.
And then and _oh yeah_ then, clamber tall the sodden bojangle, survey the encounter and with eyes anew, washed fresh, see it all, _truly see it_, as the ****** of crows that it is.
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 7:52 PM UTC
on desk
on floor
against the wall
it’s true
it’s true
I have a few
it is not here
or over there
my word!
my word
is everywhere…
I Seuss’d …It’s fun! :)
—————————————
I gave you my word.
Now yours.
Use it.
Warm your sentence
if you will.
And tho not glamorous
it could be.
Made up
with coloured eyes
blush cheeks
ruby red lips.
Yet know, my word is not made up.
My word, that tickles my fancy
not tangled in frilly misguide.
More passionate.
That of a tender shoulder
is honest real.
My word is utter natural
as most good words in life are.
And tho it told of no expectations
it is brimful of meaning.
Take my word.
It is for you.
Pop it deep within your glory box
and remember.
My word was as real a word as any true.
…and that is how our words ought be.
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC