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Is not for sale,
Every moment is precious.
19/2/2025
In the morning,
As I wake up ,
My bones creak,
I grapple for my ears from the drawers,
My teeth from a dainty cup,
My eyes lying beside me,
I  grin and say
I am blessed,
I am still young at heart,
Go baby go.
19/2/2025
The ocean hums in silver light,
where mermaids weave the threads of night.
Their laughter spills like shattered pearls,
adrift in waves with secret swirls.

The sirens call in voices low,
soft as moon-touched undertow.
A melody both fierce and free,
laced with salt and lost at sea.

Starfish kisses on fingertips bright,
glowing soft in the hush of night.
Moonlit wishes ride the tide,
carrying dreams where hearts confide.

Their shimmer lingers on the tide,
a fleeting glow, a dream’s divide.
Echoes dance where wishes weep,
whispered vows the waters keep.

So close your eyes and drift along,
to mermaid sparkles, siren song.
Where longing lives and lingers deep,
and love is something waves must keep.
Rows of forgiveness
fallow in winter
Waiting for summer
their treasure installed

Leftover morsels
heated in darkness
Sating the hunger
  of those who are called

Seeds from the past
replenish the future
Buried salvation  
awaits in the ground

Fasting on yesterday
feasting tomorrow
Waiting for supper
— when dinner bells sound  


(The New Room: February, 2025)
Where love meets the hush of dawn,
where longing turns to belonging,
where fingers trace the echoes of forever
on the skin of fleeting moments.

Where love meets the salt of tears,
both joyful and aching,
where silence speaks in heartbeats
and laughter carves itself into time.

Where love meets the wind,
untamed and relentless,
carrying whispered promises
to the edges of the world.

Where love meets loss,
yet does not end,
where memory lingers like a flame,
gentle, unyielding, eternal.

Where love meets itself again,
in the eyes of a stranger,
in the hand that reaches,
in the soul that stays.

Where love meets the infinite
and chooses to stay.
The warmth remains
But only within
The tyrant called winter
Has closed us in

Apathetic dreamers
Lost in the cold
This frozen nightmare
Has taken its toll

Where is the May Queen
To free are beliefs
To return our magic
Frozen in grief

Oh but to pine
Away till it's time
The Keeper of Seasons
Changes her mind...
Traveler Tim

The snow is 3 1/2 feet deep
10 degrees
you grew out of the tangling black,
those carefree tides that lead to the moon.

the stars i thought were silver knots
would not unwind, danced on the horizon,

softened like the white mist that gathered
the sky and the dark rose of your eyes.

you filled with the quiet of the hills
and i watched as your ghost

started to tell me goodbye, that
ghost whose seas were frozen in the night,

the ghost i loved, and everything that
was fire in me carved the words into

the night's magnolia net and the words
were; " i don't want you to go".
Time draws close for dispersal.

Coming summer there'll be no traces
of the faces beaming at the gate.

Eyes sparkling lips apart
breaking into one more dance
to be in the sunlight under sky.

Hugs and kisses fly in the wind
maybe one last embrace
for all time to come.

They'll see the world differently
and their paths will never meet,
most likely.

The most intimate will become strangers
before once more
they disperse at the gate.

I turn back with the weight of this memory.
I was listening to roller skating tunes.
Yes, I am shallow, sir.
And though thou may say villainess or mistress,
I am content to be who I am.
One noon, we were over dull
and our hearts we serviced
like two thieves there
in the kissing place
where breaths are both as one
and the first of many kisses doubles.
He made vows in mine ear.
He has such hands and lips
and his fortunate nature fed mine eyes
oh, nothing was scarce.
Our horns locked together
with the intensest chutzpah
and we well-made our match.
We sparked feelings we all ascribe to heaven.
I would not tell you
I can serve a man
that by slow designs
men can melt.
He swore oaths
and dropped
half won.
Later he paid
the sweetest
after-debts
—he did owe it.
.
.
songs for this:
Find Me the Pulse of the Universe by Laetitia Sadier
Stormy (Bossa Mix) by S-Tone Inc
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 02/18/25:
Chutzpah = audacious boldness paired with reckless self-confidence.

**We saw a production of Shakespeare's "As you like it," last week, those rhythms were stuck in my head.
This evening is starting to fall
Take a look around
Way up high in the sky
Stars are sparkling in the night
There is so much light
Stars sparkle, stars sparkle
Mars is miles away
This evening is falling
Crickets are calling
This evening is starting to fall
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