Never kiss or touch me
keep them few

Never want to hold me
till it’s true

Never give me anything
unless it’s you

Never say I love you
till you do

the magical experience
otherworldly encounter
a deep dream weaved;
a secret pathway taken.

To awaken fifty eight-
years later; the shroud
falling from my eyes.

The portal opened and
I travelled through it-
coming out here,
just the other side.

The power-giving tank is empty
  And the engine’s partly blown.
  There’s also not a lot of rubber
   Left on the two back tires.
    The steering wheel is badly cracked
     And the rear view mirror is missing.
      But somehow it still runs just fine.
       Every morning she fires it up
        And chugs around the neighborhood
         In what seems like a waste of time
          As nothing really gets accomplished.
           Valued as a vintage model and for
            The speed it once produced,
             The chrome is polished every day
              And the radio still plays.
               It belongs in a car museum
                But the owner never will give in.
                 She says she’ll keep the engine revving
                  For maybe another year or two.
                           ljm

In the shadows, a tale unfolds
Of inspiration, versus theft, so cold
A spark of ideas, like blood in the night
Can be drained away, without a fight

Inspiration whispers, "Take a bite"
Of my creativity, let it ignite
But theft creeps in, with a vampire's might
And steals away, the light of delight

Let us embrace, the inspiration's glow
And shun the theft, that would our souls know
For in the darkness, only one is true
Inspiration's kiss, versus theft's cold brew.