In a thin misty slow the sky ghosts towards grey
And constellations of streetlamps flatter
the suburban quiet with kind shadows.

my fingers feel fertile and full of intent,
as they scratch st my butterfly activity;
while you still sleep beneath the weight of dreams.

Do not fret I will not wake you with brass
Or the soundings of tymbals thundering
But with fingers whispering at your hair.

my lisping tongues voices in soft low echoes
Against the thin filaments of your flesh,
I speak sweet sibilant kisses of sound.

I bathe you in murmurs like vague perfume.
My breath trembles penitent at your neck
summoning the grace of your awakening

I utter my quiet hallelujahs
Into the pores of your arching body
And feel tremors burn through your sheer light being.

And I will taste the Eucharist of you
In the undoing, the final writhing
That cures the heart with blessings of release.

i like to watch the dophins swimming in the sea
playing having fun as happy as can be
leaping in the air beneath the sky so blue
doing lots tricks like the dolpins do.

with there smiley face smiling all day long
standing on there tail  very big and strong
there such a lovely creature bring delight to me
and to watch the dolphins is where i long to be.

The thunder rumbles in the distance
I cringe after every boom
The breezes pick up
And stir the tall evergreens
The light in the evening sky has faded
Black clouds line the sky
Where has the sunshine gone?
The familiar scent of rain
Perfumes the stifling summer air
Lightening flashes in the sky
My heart beat quickens
With every bolt of electricity
That brightens up the horizon
Like a display of fireworks
On the fourth of July

*~Marian~

Neil Young singing now-
  you are like a hurricane
  there's calm in your eyes

r ~ 7/3/14