The skill of the poetic linguist
is measured by
the reaction of the reader,
how they make them feel.

The use of tender,
imaginative-words
pushed gently from one side
of the written-line to the other
can create the desired effect.

Configuring
carefully-crafted stanzas,
& placing them
strategically
up & down
can sometimes elicit
the most reading pleasure.

Finding
the secret-sensitivities
of the heart can be tricky,
the most daunting of tasks,
but the skilled poetic linguist
can always find a way
it seems,
to create those
beautiful,
sensuous,
fiery-emotions.

And if you can find one,
just ask them
how it's done.
They are more than likely
ready,
willing & able,
to pen you a verse or two.
And perhaps,
maybe more.

The angels with their halos glowing showing their innocence
The beauty of their pale or perfectly tan skin, glowing with purity and light
The soft silk gowns they're wearing falling down below their knees flowing down their skin more beautifully than a waterfall
And their long beautiful silky hair flowing down their backs like roasted honey
And their harmonic voices
Would bring such resounding beauty to a deaf person's ears
The sight of their beauty and purity would make a blind person cry to see such beauty
The angels bring all they are into this world
Giving us miracles that bring our faith back
And giving thanks to them once they're done

When you ask of me, why poetry
I'm not sure you understand
That it's the center of my universe
The very depth of who I am

The molecules in the air I breath
Oxygen pulsing through the veins
The storm brewing beneath the surface
The pounding of the rain

It's the timeless anticipation
Of the thought that's yet to come
The tearing open of life's seam
The beating of the drum

The first peak of the desert flower
When it feels the gentle touch of spring
The smile in the eyes of a child
And all the joy it brings

The in and out of the tide
In the pulling of the waves
When you ask of me, why poetry
What more is there to say

A heart that reaches out through the years
One that regrasps what it never truly let go
Thoughts ignite to fuse the past to the present
Melded emotions in a blended reality
Emotion so heightened that time is lost
United through lost years by the memory of what never was
Separated now only by what was lived apart
Betrayed by passion, hindered by commitment
And enveloped in the dream of the possibility that lingers

I'm such a crazy
sensual-dreamer,
forever I fantasize,
visualize you
exploding above me,
I am blinded
by the diamond glare
reflecting summer hair,
intoxicated by the
cascading raw flow,
mixes of us
running down
my smiling cheeks.

She moans in tones I understand and as I moan too we move through floating notes across the scale,
her nails are sharp against my skin,she moans again to let me in and we decide to ride the milky way,
against the night the day sheds tears as we shed wakefulness and any fears we may have entertained.
And it's nothing ventured nothing gained,
I may rule the roost,but over
me
she reigns.