The moss hung low off the boughs
as heat rose from the stream.
They walked
hand in hand
along the bank;
their fingers dancing
to the tunes wrens sing;
their hips swaying
to the sun's warmth;
and their eyes found
the feel of poetry
blowing through the trees.

Aztec Warrior. 6-25-15

~

She reached for the ribbons of her gown
not knowing why, but she held them in her hand
as she floated through the ever changing mist,
whites and grays in a swirling pattern,
mesmerizing in blends and shifts,
blurred yet possessing a clarity she could not explain
or cared to think about right now

She looked down on herself in her bed sobbing,
clutching tightly a dampened pillow, lonely, missing…
now confused as a peaceful awareness
wrapped about her warmly,
caressing her spirit, washing away the pain,
the sadness, the torment which she fought now to remember
as it drifted below, creating new shadows about her feet
but distant, never forgotten, she couldn’t, it was promised…

Once more the satin ribbons were pulled gently, guided
as if a feather laced kite on a silver string embracing blue skies,
dancing about in the slow rhythm, spun in clouded dreams,
breathless she soars higher, it seems towards the sun
or perhaps a light of a different source, it felt soft, cool
beckoning her and she yearned for it…
for some reason it felt right

Stars swept past her in wiry glistening designs
like a sparkler at a summer cookout waved through the air
in abstract lemonade glowings and apple pie tickles  
and she smiled, for the first time in a long time as the 
moon disappeared on the horizon, embracing this experience
She continued allowing the tender tugs on her ribbons to
move her freely, when she felt something, it was a hand on
hers, helping her hold the ribbons, it felt familiar,
safe, comforting

When she saw his eyes, as clear as she had ever seen anything,
deep and friendly, soothing
just as she had remembered…remembered?
He took her by the hands and he came even more into focus
“Hi there, I have missed you,”  he sighed and she knew it was him
He was here, wherever here was, holding her now as he said,
“I promised I would love you eternally, I couldn't have you then,
so I have waited for you"    
She cried , happy tears as she whispered. “You did, you did, is this…”

“Shhh,” he placed a caring finger to her lips…
*”This is our eternity my love”

Summer morning -
pink jets of clouds
splash out
from the golden well of the east
falling just short
of an ebbing moon.

Streams of swallows
flutter and glide
over the garden -
they are all flying
in the same direction
as if erupting

from the sun’s waking pulse.
Just for a moment
one of the birds hangs
perfectly still -
like the top-most drop of water
from a fountain before it turns

to face the glittering pool.
Beneath them all
the hummingbird
makes her rounds
and a dove scratches the earth
below the feeder

keeping an wary eye
on the scribbling intruder.
So many summer mornings -
too many summer mornings
I have wasted
worrying about the world

and my place in it –
absent from my own body
and breath
the cage of my ribs
rising, falling, and pausing
without me. Meanwhile,

another swallow
stills her wings.
Buoyed by an unseen breeze
she is both feathered sail
and cresting wave as she slices
over my shoulder bearing west.


Tom Spencer © 2015

for Pablo Neruda*

In your poems
the sun sang
yellow invitations,
eagles swam
in lilac ink,
butterflies discoursed
on desire,
the moon
whispered white
mysteries.

Your syllables said:
these are my arms, Lady,
lose that silky frock
and come into them.

My love feeds
on your love,
Love.

My lips
are for you.

You are mine;
I am yours.

We stand here,
the briefest moment;
let us stand together,
naked in eternity.

Dare to embrace this,
you murmured,
for it is all
the world can offer.

Eyelids fluttered out
ardent yeses;
sighs replied;
fingers danced;
many dresses
glided to the floor
with tiny gasps
of imagined pleasure.

Flesh and spirit
conjoined.

What woman,
could resist
the implacable sweetness
of your songs?

What woman,
having a heart
to hear,
would want to try?
- mce

tempting trappings glow
ghostly garments flow
hair winds bright like sunshine ropes
in my velvet dreams

sequel skin as I grin
stops only if I wait
gentle limbs with no end
churn a heart of clay

within, without
beneath, about
outside in, inside doubt

behind the breach
roundabout route
beyond my reach, right way out

seasoned strangers
inner part dark
destined dangers
apart from spark

flurried passions molt
storied bastions bolt
fire blinds light like fog eats smoke
in my velvet dreams

© Jason Cole