Winter is not death.
There are footprints,
Cardinals and chicadees,
Neighbours cursing,
Tires spinning
Like Catherine wheels.
Whiteness is not a shroud
Waiting to be unwrapped
At Easter.
Winter is not death.

I've been in the room
Where no one thought
To close his mouth;
Tongue rolled back
Exposing a cavern
With white stones
At the mouth.
Still eyes, cracks of eternity;
Stiff body like Pompeii,
Frozen like winter,
But not winter.
No slippers on blue feet,
No swallows flying
Out of the mouth.
No,
Winter is not death.

Whispered words

Don’t compare

To actions taken

Here and there

To let you know

How much I care…

I’ll never leave, my Love



Covenants

And pleasantries

These things are broken

Easily

But I want you

To stay with me

And so I’ll strive, my Love,



To fight the nature

Of our kind

I love your face

But love is blind

And so I search

Your soul for mine

I see it there

From time to time

Because, you see, we’re intertwined by things unseen, and God above.

Let's ban poetry because it
Heals wounds without prescription,
Break borders without permission,
Adds beauty without makeup,
With words all so made up!

love is listening
to you snore

love is patiently waiting
for you to calm down

love is being able to just be
and present to each other

love is opening ourselves
to this very moment

love simply is

I often found you more addictive when i was poisioned from loneliness..

Where daffodils
Perfume the breeze,
And chirps and trills
Concert the trees,
And nectar spills
From mouths of bees,
I find my thrills,
My fun, my ease.
And though it ills
I rather please
To take green hills
With allergies.
Benadryl pills?
No thanks: I’ll sneeze.

^ ^