You are my lullaby,
A sweet little birdsong.

You are my lullaby,
Soft and strong.

You are my lullaby.
You outshine the morning sun.

You are my lullaby,
You are my mirthful fun.

You are my lullaby
Your smiling eyes shine true

Oh, my little lullaby,
How I do love you!

Olive copse

Sitting indoors being old and are forbidden
to go outside, I dream of lazier days
then in the heat of summer, I had siesta under
a 500 years olive tree.
I was dreaming of the shepherds who slept under
this tree and the only sound was grazing sheep and the occasional barks of a dog.
I can smell the cheese he ate and the wine he drank
before they drifted into a slumber.
The sheepherders got old and died but the tree grows
bigger and bore fruit.
There was poverty here and a new generation wanted
a better life, they went to America to find gold
and get married to Amanda.
Alas, factories paid well, they married no Amanda, but
someone of hardier, hairdresser stuff.
I wonder if they ever dreamt of the old days when the sun was hot, sleeping under an olive tree.

This lil
Dragon fly

Came across the waters
Of my eyes

An electrical
             Blue
               Foil
          With glitter

Where i looked
A lot

She danced
And from a ponds glance
Her wings held a beautiful body

               I noticed

When she flew by

Past

She didn't say anything
But anything
Said she laughed

I saw her smile
Taller than a giraffe

This lil
Dragon fly

Buzzing around
            My head

You were a woman of soft grey
skirts and glasses; a little boy in tow at
the place that we met.
As the years pounded by, you became
my pasture of Heaven and my honeysuckle friend.
Your waterfall love washed over me.
It cleansed me like a violet stream,
dappled by the leaves on
the cottonwood trees.

Once I dreamed that we flew together on
the back of a bluebird and laughed until
our jaws ached, and we ate honeydew until the
juice ran down our face and dripped onto
the bird's wings.

But we always wake from dreams,
and birds fly away and build nests;
yet, I know that the light which shines
through you; that exudes from your soul
will always be my heat and my feather.

If I could take this
moment and
own it,
hold it,
like a piece of paper,
I'd fold it
and
stow it away,
like
a pocket knife.

If you would be
my wife,
I'd be the
happiest guy in
the world.
You'd be my
girl,
and I'd be your man...
I would hold
your hand and kiss you,
and you'd never
miss me again.

I share my words
like a coward.

I write of these men,
but I'll never speak their names.

a backdrop of blue
with tiny dots for stars

and it swooshes away

from a saucer shaped
like a paper plate

this rocket ship
or clear

plastic pen
a pin-up girl inside

it's confusion

it's wonder

it's pulpy desire

Whit Howland © 2020

I framed you in my heart with no space for anyone,
But, you chose not to stay,
Now, you are found in many wallets and car keys.
11/4/2020