There once was a poet called D,
stopped in with some strange poetry,
he began to write,
caused a pub-room fight,
then fled the scene with mad glee!

nothing on earth
could brighten the dooryard
of my studio,
like your shining face....

i think about you all day long
no matter
how soft the thought
or dear sweet the song...

hey, you
i love you
so
smile...

...and for with mine own
and simple hands,
i would pick for you
every tulip on the sod,
lay them at your feet
and beg my tears to stop...

sometimes i find my
self-trembling
at the
thought
of
you.

It is Autumn, once again,
my
favorite season,
and again,
the leaves turn by way of the wind,
in colours of palettes,
around my aloneness again

I look long down the avenue,
the street,
the sidewalk, the trees,
I wish
I could watch myself wandering,
with someone
I love
     in the breeze,
but,
this again is uncertain
as my cigarette lifts
in this crisp
Autumn air...

     my aloneness has gathered here.

by simply seeing you,
not to mention,
talking to you,
sends me...

I toss and turn  to erace the memory
Focus on something delightful
A sunny day
A moonlight night
Flash, and freeze frame, my brain explodes in pain
The pain of deciet
The sight, the smell, the taste....of your deciet
The tears threaten to drown me
As our special child sleeps, unaware ....of your deciet
No anger yet,  just this deep pain filled night
Questions without answers
A name without a face
******* ...Why?
Lies...how long the lies?
The bedside clock reads 3 o clock...
The hour of great mercy!
Another lie...
midway between 12 and 6....
dark and light...
and another tird day thinking,... wondering
of you and your mistress.