the stream is a breeze of
blue stars, layered in sweet
melancholy, layered in
sadness and love.

the world revolves like
a wheel, burgeons like
a flower, weeps like a
sorrowful cloud.

i yearn for you, down
misty lanes and dreams of
dark seas, fall until
i can no longer fall,

fall until our love blossoms
and our hearts cry out.

I know not of the stars
but I know your face
I can gift you the moon
But I know you want that cake
Your round face
Staring at me
Your full lips
Trembling as you kiss my knee  
From the window 
The moon looked on eagerly 
as we joyfully devoured our cake.

harvest hearth softly glowing
stone cold beneath weary feet
to winter between drafty walls
to recall what it is to feel

diminished window of light
door shut against inclemency
to slumber and dream without
to lose and find self within

time is ripe for apparitions
so unexpectedly haunting
cloaked in familiarity
heartflutteringly intrusive

daydreams are her elixir
scent of tea, turf, baked porter
dusted in peat ash patina
awakening dormant senses

...an invitation to a nice, soft night

pausing at the playground
under a watchful full moon
recalling perfect summer nights
dreaming and dancing on the grass

...suddenly mere heartbeats away...

a part in the drapery folds
affording a glimpse of home
thoughts of impending entry
the tingling flush of awareness

...on the threshold of revelation...

as novel as premonition
as familiar as memory
a hanging rose decorates the door
a fleur-de-lis adorns the passage

...laying bare the soul...

embraced in a coat of arms
warmed by the promise of fire
where candelabra feeds flame
upon a hearth of touchstone

...grounded by ageless emotion...

absinthe makes it grow fonder
cherry pie serves it by the slice
feelings enough to give pause
especially to the faint of heart

...overwhelmed with welcome...

guest towels hung for love
epsom baths for the spirit
laughing through the tears
smiling through the ecstasy
with the passion of tango

...lingering in the vestibule...

fault the summer air
that beckons the wafting spirit

fault the lightning bug
that flashes purity in the night

fault the music
that brings emotion to its knees

fault no fault but my own