and with the first blossoms there came rain,
and it rained,
oh it rained endlessly long

In this poor hour of ease
Dark and cold
As soft as a prayer
A road unplanned
In the shadow of a dream
Comfort and oblivion
On which fate has smiled
Grant me to see and touch
Before the ruining waters fall
For the last sight of her face
The useless anguish of a kiss
Pondering on a rune of roses
Beyond the reach of time and chance
In the serenity of this place

Gypsy

When I See Your Eyes

When I see your eyes,
I want to be there,
where your window soul
stares back at me.
Touch me,
I will touch you back,
hands holding hands
captive in your arms,
captive in your heart,
and the years together
spread out before us,
stretching from our now,
until our forever.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021

Not of ancient lore,
or some cross to bear.
But here. But now.
No Prince Charming
at the castle door.
Only her, Miss Damsel herself.
In some paper city,
called Zilch,
where things fall apart fast.
She's trapped in no tower,
but a loft instead.
With tin-foil crown,
she climbs across
the kitchen table
to slay the dragon,
in the flames
of his own black-hearted
bedevilment.
A dagger to the heart
of the matter,
and all is quiet again.
Then with a satisfied yawn,
she retires for her afternoon nap.

along emilys hill road
the trees are bare

she's skipping stones
across st martens creek

as she turns
smiling my name

her breath comes out
white clouds
mingles
and hangs in the air

the quiet
stillness
in her eyes

she sees something
in me
that I can't
see

and that s why
i love her so



emilys hill road
unchanged

the trees are bare

she's skipping stones
across
st. martins creek

I believe that's the way
I remember her best

Down where the water sprawl to touch,
The banks of where the wraiths of us
Cling beneath the half-mast moon
My memories must not exhume-

The path of fingers, hair and skin
Where one touch ends and one begins.
Or how the words, too high a cost
Curled in the wind- forever lost.