On the backs of
flies
we wait for the
next thing.
Something is
always coming.
A birth or death,
food or hunger
hatred
laughter
love...

Something is always
coming around the
corner.
The Mad Hatter with
mushroom tea.
A strange color of
blue that tastes like
almonds.
A ****** that sparkles
in the night.

Listless mornings
of languid
walks with the
wife in the cool
of the evening.

A knife in the back,
a shark attack,
or maybe, just
possibly, you write
a poem about
waiting for the
next thing.

In the twilight’s hush, where shadows play
I’ll hold your words, and cherish every way
You weave a tapestry of love and time
A bittersweet reminder of life’s rhyme

Memories of whispers, laughter and tears
Echoes of moments, through all the years
The velvet curtain, a gentle farewell
A promise of remembrance, that will forever dwell

In the realm’s beyond, where love remains
Our bond will whisper, through joy and pains
Though mortal frames, may fade and decay
In memory’s garden, our love will stay

Come to me like a wild horse unbridled longing for the river
like a morning prayer on the heart wanting nothing more
Come to me with pining like a widow waiting for her love
like a soldier in the trenches, begging for cease fire ...

Come to me like a dove gliding over peaceful waters
like the otter and the kelp in a symbiotic drift
Come to me like stars of night shining with accord
like the morning sun at dawn, rising still on you

Come to me like a morning cup of coffee freshly brewed
like a sleeping soul awakened by dreams of yesterday
Come to me like the diner bell exhaling all your waits
like a soft caress on the skin filled with enchanting sin  

                            come to me lover with your loving touch,
                             for I love you, so much !