as the pen tattoos the notebook page
bringing permanence to words
curiously i watch it sway
hoping one day to have the nerve
to say what's only written

she doesn't like flowers
at least not as romantic gestures
she'd rather
watch them
grow
blossom
wilt

Life is a Biscuit'
Where the privilege are born,
With cream in between:
While the rest have to work'
For their life's filling.

i heard a bluebird singing  such a lovely tune
beneath the stars so bright and the silver moon
a lovely melody with such a lovely beat
it filled my heart with love and swept me of my feet

every note in time every note in tune
with his gentle voice i began to swoon
it made me feel serene and so very calm
a lovely song of love filled with so much charm

then he flew away in to the midnight sky
flapped his wings so gently as he said goodbye