A painting in black and white, red and gold.
I keep this image of you in my minds eye.
you where standing parallel to the orange tree of equal leaves. Your tight frame illuminated by defused clouds that rip across the pitched void of a starry sky. Drifting grass moves like a rhythmic stream of gold rolling over the tiny hill. Only you and the small tree quietly defy the long grasses movement. I can close my eyes and see your shadowed face there; Just taking the third pull off the 100 cigarette, exhaling slowly forming a thin chain of smoke.
All in black and white, red and gold.
Such is the painting I keep in the center of my mind. A painting I will always hold closest to my heart.

One Sunday morning for a walk under the garden pass way through, when step by step I realized that I was in love with you.

Call me such the liar and fool this is true, give no notice of the kindness and careful actions I have given you; but if still you feel cheated and swindled by my small offense, then I offer up in recompense. That while you sleep and so soundly slumber in your bed, behind your dreams I visit you in your head. A more clever prankster there never was to prey upon your petty needs, only to guide you through your misled deeds. However you may have strayed so far from these your gentle homes, I will have you back before the sun arose. Call to me not before the midnight hour for from your lips my name will hover, and roll along your awaking tongue the name Jack Underhill will be far gone.

Peacefully Prospero weeped
at the edge of these darkened seas.
Unfeathered flocks of fiery bones
flew above his heavy brow.
Giving not a moments notice
at the sorrowed actions of this beaten crowd.

I can only give dreams to others
and build them up as they sleep,
but soon it will all fade
by mornings call to wake.