-

The distance beads on sunflower petals reaching
as bright yellow vistas bring happiness to open spaces
and blue skies welcome multicolored balloons
released by children on a day in the park

Miles stare me in the face with silence
when another Sunday seems like the longest day
and I wonder where your thoughts might be
while friends vie for attention with fancy words

I long for the sunset's introduction of night,
a spring moon crossing my universe
and stars to count and recount as minutes
bring tomorrow and my hopes it will include you

This is just another afternoon I wish I were there
In your arms, a new smile, a new city, a new world
Learning to love all over again and I would be
if only I had started my journey long ago

For now hummingbirds dance on cool April breezes
and azaleas concentrate on the task of blooming
As a park bench beckons at the far end of the walk
for me to sit and dream of the what ifs on my list

I look around at nature's gifts and know,
if love is springtime then you are my springtime
and breathing in the warm beautiful day
I wonder...am I the springtime in your heart too?

-

Tracing the cosmos
In wide open spaces
Only to face
The dreams that I wander
A lonely existence
Among constellations
Orbiting my desires
Now eclipsed by you

Gazing down
The earth below seems faded
As this distance counts
Light years like glazed donuts
Tempting from a window, as a kid
Licking the glass,
Never tasting the prize

Lunar phases
Become poetic phrases
Cosmic dust descending
Caught in gravity’s pull
Rocketing towards a target
Programmed for a safe
Reentry into your heart

The craft juts and jolts, screeching
Amidst the desolate silence of space
“Houston, we have a problem.
She needs to know how I feel,
how much I love her...”
Static echoed frequency hums
Transmission ended
All hope burned up
Crash landed

Breath cannot catch,
Lips that cannot part.
Locked in a death stare daring either to move,
Grab me by hips and pull close.

Waiting for either to weaken,
For that tiny flex,
The subtle give,
Scratches gouged into the varnish.

Lying in depravity,
Bruises where the pulse judders.
Stars dance as the pleasure deepens.
Locked together muscles tensed.
Feral wild and free of sense.

Happiness is the new spring grass rising from the cold winter ground,
A dancing bumble bee skipping flower to flower,
A bright blue, cloudless sky that allows the smiling sun to shine.
The awed gasp of a reader getting a new book,
A victory in a battle seen only on a crisp white page,
A smile that accompanies an unexpected joke from your favorite character.
The rigging laugh of a sweet child playing with his toys,
An inside joke between two friends so close they could be family,    
A gleam in a parent's eye when they see their young one shine.

Random dates.
Random times.
Useless words.
Stupid rhymes.

It's not cool being
less than you can be
so I urge you--
urge you--
to be happy.

Because there was a man
who was a clown
and he danced for the children
as they were being lead
to the gas chamber.
And it was 1943.
And it was
**** Controlled Germany.

The clown wept,
each time the lever
was pulled
and when the children
became silent.

To stop crying,
he told himself
that existence
is just random dates
and random times.
There was no meaning
in reason
and no order
in lines.

All he could do
was all he did know,
and that was to give
happiness
before they'd go.