In far flung fields
How your heightened heart
Beat’s as if it’ll never break
As if it barely bleed’s
And your laughter lifts
All souls that surround it
And immortal moments
Fly down to flirt
Within the spaces where
Your smile lingers
And your yawning
Calls out to the brittle breeze
Who sweeps forth
Cuddling and cradling
You in just the right jet stream
So that sleep may nestle
Upon your neck
Delivering desirous dreams

She danced but also instructed
The feet of small girls, some being reluctant
One two, One two
Rhythm resting within her joints
Her toes spinning upon perfect points
One two, one two
Sweat soaked in a speck-less studio
Where the sun went to and fro
One two, one two
Yet to the beat, the rest of her life couldn’t adhere
Outside of the studio she oscillated in fear
One dismal hiccup before a panel of judges
Two points off led her life to the drudges

I’d conjure Fall leaves to follow you
Bright hues, radiant in gold and plum
And they’ll speak of what magic I’ve done
I’d seem like a great wizard tis is true
But such magic would barely compare at all
To your gaze which causes my chest to fall
From Helios heights where frost doesn’t thaw
Where lust and love’s leaflets languish like law
Where passion’s ruthless river is rushing raw
From this endangered emotive environment I fall
And naturally I then tumble from my studied reason
But luckily Fall is my favorite season

With windstorms littered with snow
Failing visions know not where to go
While the inches accumulate and grow
Man’s spirits follow the temperatures so low
However one flower lingers on
With pristine petals that were never torn
Swaying in bliss, so out of season
Defying logic, repelling reason
Inciting all who see to the hall of mystery
These pupils receiving lectures on life’s inconsistency
But the wise walk out of class, truly see
Sometimes it’s best to let things be
To greet such sights with eyes in awe
And a wordless mouth that’s left ajar

Coupling wind and fire
an terrific, tumultuous, take
Time waits for no man but of him
his fate,
the fellow frets and is frightened by fame,
Son of Father Time,
cannot merely hide inside its vase,
Blooming, what a fellow
hath he grown noble and sublime
soon to love and learn
the great burden of his time.

Insects layered lilac pedals upon her skin
As if she was a nexus of nectar
As if her body were the chalice of youth
And all that dripped from her, made her a fountain
That flooded the halls of fatherly time
Leaving her ignorant of seconds, minutes, hours
So why do the insects dress her like the flowers?
Because to the ideal of a perfect plant, she is treason
For she never decays in any season