An artistically woven
turquoise woolen
pullover made
out of the finest
moher fabric
made my day.

Made for you,
to be caressed
and cherished
as a perfect
garment.

It looked so good
on you, my darling!

Rainbow colors always
bring me happiness and
I gently touch you,
feeling already safe
as a deer in a flowering
forest; within narcotically
scented alluring hug, we
embrace again, tightly,
you and me, entwined.

Whiffed winds melody
played through tall pine
tree tops as a flute song
swaying branches. It seemed
as they are affirming our walk
along the shore, where the river
meets an ocean, hand in hand,
peacefully.

And, yet, every time the
strong cool breeze exposes
your magnificent masculine
figure in that woolen top,
my coolness faints into the
void and dissolves itself.

Our urge emerges!
I feel your fingertips touch
as a passionate flame dance
over my face, you turn my
head up toward your loving
gaze, wanting it so much,
slightly pulling me up
then burning my lips.

Our hurried steps are heard,
echoing as a rushed tempo
on the salty path, fresh air
lingers around us, leading
us to our charming summer
suite, to undress. And love.

I recently got reminded... Oh how I am caught
In a delicate web of disillusions
Make me see what is actually not
Make invisible my heart's secret questions

Been successful in putting aside all grief
But truth has it's way to make you pay
You can bury all grievances; you can mask all disbelief
But it'll all catch up; these things you've kept at bay

Make your silly compromises
To have the the best you just make allowances
Keep up your futile pretences
Accommodate your selfish preferences

Day had dawned where each question need their answer
Questions I've shrugged and left unaddressed
Indistinguishable when fact and fiction begin to blur
When dreams and reality have coalesced

Tonight I lay with the load I bring
Body asleep with my heart fully awake
Blessing or curse, this rude awakening
Decisions and choices left for the following suns to make

Neath the shy January sun
she turns a butterfly
upon the marigold field

Flies now wildly far
amid the yellow and red flower
beyond the bounds of the catcher
in the madness of a child’s dream fulfilled
leaving wind scattered trails of her wings
over the marigold field!

a clear creek trickles
a dead limb reaches towards heaven
questions sparkle
like mirrors
upon a barren limb
as the process of life continues
cold
         and thoroughly numb
                             as                   breath               returns
as the breeze
      picks up cadence
                                     again
   and comes my way one more leaf.
and one more
                                        Sun.

When love grows out of time
And huddles in a grey season
Of distemper, beware chilling
Same, the deep low downing
Doldrums, the browning burn                                                                    
Of the left alone flower, deftly
Dying laughter, stale motions,
The hollow rings entrapments
When love grows out of time.