another sticky evening

its half past two
my day is ending,
and by now the unrelenting heat
seems to be getting to the stars

as they sit dim above,
surveying all of every thing,
one of those evenings
when you can hear everything,

distant dogs howl skyward,
and a lone freight train passes through
a ghost station
perhaps to london
perhaps then onward to a dock!
and then well
perhaps anywhere

an owl sat in the now
long gone willow tree
secret wise old owl

nothing to eat on the pavement,
or my garden or
anyone else's for that matter
so sing your song all night
sleep it off in the morning,


everything fading now
the harsh reality of overtime tomorrow,
seems distant like weeks upon weeks
although its twelve hours,

as i give out that eternal yawn,
the last gasp of resistance down
and now its time to sleep
another sticky evening spent

Her slender hand was full of pink blossoms, from the cherry tree.
Her pale skin was the color of foam upon the ocean waves.
Her face was full with the joys of flirtation, and of hope, and expectations.
The moon was gentile and the breeze was warm upon her skin.

If only it could always be then.

Her heart was uncontrolled, and beat fast, and loved.
And loved for no reason but love.
A tender kiss lay on her lips, given easily away. No reason to be afraid.
For trust was a long, long thread, and it was still unbroken.

If only it could always be then.

As she lay there on the hill, full of love, enough to spill.
She looked at the stars and yelled," I WILL NEVER BE AFRAID".
For I am youth and it was not wasted, No it was not wasted.
It had only just been tasted, love could never be a sin.

If only it could always be then.
And youth would never ever end.

I would love to drag my aura on a walk to the top of a hill; make room in my rain jacket pockets for oleoresin capsicum and a flashlight, my container of weeds and slow burning leaves
I would love to kiss the grass with the spilling light from my mouth **** on my broken finger nails massaged by earth’s dirt
I would love to fall asleep under the hidden moon covered by a blanket made of water; they will remember my face with a smirk
I would love to cradle you little rotating sphere, nurture your tired ozone layer
She would love to drag us all, bury you beneath her holy herbaceous there will be plenty of firing kisses and the waves will come, you wont feel the cold
I would love to take you on a walk to the top of a hill