Tarry night tickles my soul for the blackness signals the poet to assume control
To expose and color with crayons unknown
To throw the layman dog a bone
I cherish the faculties of my twilight muse
To blend and wield sickness and sorcery in any manner I choose* ..

I crave divinity fudge during the holiday
period with roasted pecans and butterscotch
pudding
Crisp morning walks with smoked hickory
wisp , wool mittens and horehound whips
Picture perfect pinecones that crackle with
the sweep of the breeze , Ethiopian coffee
with brie and cherry danish 'neath mistletoe
topped hardwood trees* ...

Into a poem
Feel the wetness of streaming prose
Wonder
If love shall be the towel
To dry away your tears
As one goes from here to over there
Young to old and old to wise and wise to demise
When the wine bottle tumbles from the table
Jump!
Catch the wine
If there are two hands entwined
Even a poet knows
Lay down the pen
And share that one glass of wine
Touch
The romance of time

Slowly
Awkwardly
We find our footing

We try to fight ocean waves
but we can't fight the moon

We can't fight the world's
rotation
Or the far reaches of
altitude

Grounded
Planted as trees
on the surface of this
floating lanscape

Exist to
explore the
possibilities of the
heart
and the
limits
of our internal being