~

where clear blue sky meets water's deep
his sunbeams reach her waves to tease,
to warm her currents, foaming spray;
dawn to dusk when daylight fades,
till only afterglow remains,
an interlude of celestial stage.

he speaks to her on written sky
and in the mournful sea-bird's cry,
wraps sultry ribbons in her tresses,
his fingers linger in caresses,
and in soothing choreography
he gently stirs her ocean's breeze.

he sends her gifts of palm and dates,
wrapped on waves in salty sprays;
watches her with much delight,
he sings to her each eventide,
love songs with the calling gull,
and rocks her tween the gusts and lulls.

wedded at horizon’s edge,
devotion to her he has pledged,
to have forever and to hold,
his comfort to her storm-tossed soul;
his tender kiss on tear-stained cheek,
where clear blue sky meets water's deep.

~

post script.

when one gazes
into the vastness
of sea and sky,
of what is from
height to depth
an endless blue,
one cannot but think
of eternal devotion,
of the relationship
between two who have
pledged their forever troth!

as i wonder from what recesses
this one came, i remember…
our 36th wedding anniversary
is fast approaching...
i’ve been thinking of what to gift her
that will make her cry anew.

**thank you to Hello Poetry for
the tremendous honor bestowed
with their designation of this poem as the daily
and to all who have expressed their heartfelt
love and appreciation... your message
came through loud and clear...
there can be no denying it,
i am an incredibly blessed man
because of each of you!  
thank you, truly,
from the bottom of my heart!

~~~

for the anonymous mother whom I value

~~~

Devils ain't so uncommon
we all got one or two,
the unlucky ones,
let them move in

and the line tween and us
and them
damnably blurred past no return

addiction is a cumulative,
sometimes thing

in this usage
sometimes
means merely the occasional
seconds
of remorse self-disgust
tween gut busting need,
incautiously craving constant,
the pleasure of inexcusable overlooking,
permitting yourself
to be the child,
allowing oneself to be
forgetting and forgettable

in this usage
cumulative
means the pleasure of a thousand
pills, drinks, smokes,
so long ago
forgetting and forgettable,
nothing sticks and nothing stays
so that each hit, each drunk
is brand new
and

nothing
accumulates
except just tolerable enough
remorse and intolerable pain
that brings that
devil desire
who always wins the seventh race
riding a horse called
"just this once more"

and you write me:

"I wish I could be the sweet person
I wanted so desperately to be except... I'm not...
sadly, I feel your disappointment :("

Devils ain't so uncommon
we all got one or two,
the unlucky ones,
let them move in

so whom am I to judge,
assuage, forgive and overlook,
and never condemn
cause you do it almost
plenty enough
for yourself and
every addict on this tour bus

so I answer as follows:

*the only words that come to mind -

the children are owed