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JS Clark May 2017
There was Winter's cold,
But I was with YOU my LOVE!!
Grand hibernation!!!
JS Clark May 2017
The south breeze wafts through,
Goosebumps rise upon her neck--
The breeze is my breath.
JS Clark May 2017
For------

The robust and the rakish--
You were a king among them.
You were the last of a kind of men
That petted the Timber Wolf
And stared into the eyes of the
Grizzly Bear.

That breed of chrome and steel called
Harley-Davidson bore you on your
Perpetual pursuit of the wind.
Now we look forward to hearing your
Voice in the free breeze that enticed you
Time and again.

You were cut from the cloth of Paul Bunyan
And John Henry.
You smiled at the arduous, the laborious, and
The heavy.

Your eye was as good as the plumbline,
But the plumbline you still used;
Your work in the construction of bridges in
This Missouri River valley was your signature,
A tangible legacy no honest man could deny
Or refuse.

Sleep now, R--- B----, a well
Deserved rest--
For from among the ranks of Crockett and
Boone, you’re Lancelot--
The shining, the best.
JS Clark May 2017
I have been soaring for many years.
As I bore up my wings upon the thermals,
I would ride high above the storms.

I would look across the top of the
Cloud mountain and see nothing
But beautiful, pensive expanse--ever
Proud and joyous to be an eagle.

But I would yearn…
I would yearn for another such as myself
To be gliding across the torrents.

To be looking in the direction of my flight.
To be concerned in finding me--
Even beyond finding her next meal.

I can see far, but not far enough sometimes.
I can't see the whole, and thusly, the whole
Grand orb of time…

But I can see into the expanse--
And the day came--
When I saw her,
When I saw YOU!!!

There!  In the expanse!
Across the top o’ the tempest--
There YOU were!!!

Gliding, soaring, were
YOU!

Miles away and across--

Our eyes met across the tempests.
JS Clark May 2017
Your love wakes my soul,
Just as the Spring wakes the Earth,
Both tickle the core.
JS Clark May 2017
Pure winds
Beautiful prairie

Tall grass
Kissing the dew

Mighty fork
Winding tributary

Escorted by grass, fescue

Aged trees
Standing in groves

Greet the fowl of dawn

Talking bison
Muffled tone

Still awaken the merry prairie dog

Lone rider
Haulin' mail across the plains

Headin' west, for Sacramento

Indian fighter
On plains self-same

Will insure this mailman sees no tomorrow
JS Clark May 2017
Love is a rock face,
Climbers oft find a toehold--
Until sets the sheer.
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