Darkness reigns as night falls,
the sounds change hushed now,
secrets from the day reveal themselves,
pinpricks of starlight attract the eye.

Movement in the periphery,
disappears when looked for,
imagined creatures and demons,
move along with the actual evil.

Silence, a blanket covering,
ripped open by the coyotes,
their howls create a flight response,
though they are further away than they sound.

Campfire light flares,
sending the night oozing for shadows,
the flickering fire creating it's own
dancing creatures, just outside the ring of light.

Gravel crunches on the road,
as headlight eyes peer ahead,
disappearing around the curve,
leaving red lights and wondering who is roaming the night.

Glowing eyes appear,
tapetum reflections of gold,
jack rabbit ears raise,
as it skirts the fire light.

I close my eyes and drift to sleep,
tent fly open to the sky,
when my eyes open again,
the sun greets me with morning.

Spicy and sweet,
warm and moist,
cinnamon and nutmeg,
sugar and cream cheese.
swirling vortices streaked with vanilla.

Titillating tongue taste buds,
travel a tasty turning trail,
roaming whipped edges,
and plunging into fluffiness,
exploring extravagance.

The plate now empty,
disappointing want,
but secretly satiated and satisfied,
the sweet and spicy glaze remains,
coating memories in the mouth.

Echoing cicada calls,
shatter the deafening silence,
brown oak tree leaves flutter to the ground,
northern winds slowly begin to blow.

A cold front oozes in from the north,
escorting fall out the door,
snowflakes cover the ground behind it,
as it leaves its mark upon the countryside.

Squirrels scramble hiding last minute nuts,
a covey of bobwhites scurry by headed for shelter,
they disappear into the tall grass on the fenceline,
the trees, begin to sway in earnest, as the breeze changes.

Gray clouds, blot out the sun,
a blue feeling falls across my soul,
temperature dropping quickly to near freezing,
a barn owl, flies from tree to tree, looking for a hollow.

My front porch becomes inhospitable,
blowing snow begins to pile,
I retreat inside, a fire already burning,
I feed it some wood and watch winter take hold.

Curvy country roads
let me lighten my load,
Texas hill country is the plan,
truck windows down, all the way to
Concan.

Cold Frio river,
makes us all shiver,
inner tubing it all the way down,
Bluetooth speaker jammin' country sounds.

Floating cooler tied to me,
easing down river feeling free,
Texas flag and camo bikinis
just like wishes from a genie.

Cause you got to get away,
pick a weekend and go play,
leave your inhibitions, be wild and free,
making memories you and me.

Rope swing dangles in the wind,
swinging out and jumping in,
Ice cold beer and Josh Abbot Band,
my redhead girl, we're hand in hand.

Hill country sunset, hidden by trees,
orange, pink and blues, a sight to see,
perfect weather, nothing missing,
end the day with some kissing.

Misted mountain Meadows,
manifest melancholy mysteries,
mirrored mystical marauder's,
make magical mischief.

Give me road trips filled with 90's music,
take me fishing or I just might lose it,
Texas lakes, or the gulf coast,
with too much work I'm diagnosed.

I need 'Merica's, and **** rights,
and I need you to get it together tonight,
we know whats going on in the world today,
the news is all bad, so lets go play.

Drop the boat in the water and hollering WOOOOO!
full throttled boat, out on the bay with my crew,
all my buddies gathered from far and wide
we're going fishing, no matter the tide.

The water is flat and the sun is shining magnifico,
we're from Arizona, Texas, Florida and New Mexico
get together once or twice a year,
telling stories and drinking beer.

Cutting bait and casting lines,
generally having one hell of a time,
doesn't matter if its reds or speckled trout,
just put us on the coast and let us out.

In the darkness in between,
of true love and and lust I sing,
breathy songs with gasping spasms,
creeping tongues and *******.

With fingers that travel over her lands,
exploring everywhere with both hands,
warming breaths on silky skin,
burning pyres of original sin.

Building toward volcanic eruption,
with all the powers of seduction,
whispered lovings cooed in an ear,
intentions made crystal clear.

Engorged lips pressed together,
now teasing with a feather,
ice cubes melt and dripped along,
extending verses of this song.

Harmonies entered as one voice,
higher now, we have no choice,
baseline bumping, shaking walls,
setting up the chorale call.

The chorus hits hard and fast,
finale is soon cannot last,
our music made and instruments spent,
we wonder where the night time went.

The waiter brought the tray,
as the colors slowly changed,
melting ice diluting liquor,
better drink it that much quicker.

The winds arrived as did the rain,
the roof blew off, sounded like a train,
headed toward the ivory coast,
with vestal virgins, whose minds were closed.

Songs were playing anyway,
as the poet had his say,
telling us about the truth,
that was really never proved.

I showed my cards at hands end,
then I asked my friends to lend,
with ante for one last play,
I wandered through, but could not stay.

There she was, the redhead there,
dancing, pale skin and a chest that's bare,
swaying once more to the beat,
later I caught her on the street.

I took her home for no reason,
told her lies out of season,
she paid no mind as I played the radio,
then we did the night fandango.

Am I like a credit card,
my mind the magnetic strip,
or are my memories more,
like a pin and chip.

To access me you need the code,
and it's a secret after all,
if you guess poorly,
its me you will have to call.

Don't try to read my mind,
it's locked up tighter than a vault,
if you get stuck trying,
it's really not my fault.

So imagine if your stuck
just trying to get inside,
if I let you in the madness,
you may well lose your mind.

So stick to what I post,
that's free for all to see,
I keep that other stuff locked up,
to protect your thoughts from me.

You think you have done it,
job complete,
the end.

But what you really have done
is bounced,
a ballistic arc of life,
the journey's not complete.

Each bounce is but a step,
graduation,
college,
graduation.

Job,
promotion,
marriage,
parenthood.

Anniversaries,
birthdays­.

Weddings,
funerals.

However
you measure time,
like a flea hopping,
life is a trampoline.

Just bouncing along,
until there is,
no spring left.
death.

The screaming gears
bones exploding
organs ruptured
fluids running

The ******* Virus
also known as Cranial Rectitis
be careful out there in the world
the ******* virus around us swirls.

It makes you ask and do stupid things
not you, but other people feel the sting
it makes you need to be babysat
other people can’t stand that.

It’s infectious and it’s spreading
everyone has been exposed I’m dreading
in some of us it sits dormant in our brain
out of nowhere or under strain
your job or life you can not contain.

Other people have it chronic
might as well have the plague bubonic
these people can never take care of anything
they can't even follow a path of string.

Ask dumb questions, can't do their job
basically they are a worthless blob
cannot make a call or use email
just gives everyone 6 kinds of hell.

They understand nothing and what’s worse
it makes the people around them curse
sadly there is no definite cure
no way to make one’s self be pure.

The best you can hope for is a bit of a lull
KY jelly around your neck and PULL
with a pop Cranial Rectitis cured
by this time people want you skewered.

Sadly the cure never lasts
and you devolve, just like the past
wearing protection does no good
it is not transmitted by wood
or fluids, or plastic or glass
it’s caused when your own head goes up your ***.

Odes to Coffee, a Haiku, a Limerick, and a Verse

Coffee, Coffee Nod
Coffee, Coffee, Coffee Yawn
One cup down, talk now

Coffee, coffee, coffee
Coffee, Coffee, coffee
Everyone shut up
Please refill my cup
Coffee, Coffee, Coffee

Coffee, Coffee yay
Coffee, Coffee hey
Let me take a drink to jumpstart my day
Off to work we go to earn some needed pay
Be a real man and drink it black
Or make it all fancy and catch some flack

Portobello mushrooms, I use them all the time
No matter how topped they always taste just fine
From cream cheese and crab to chicken fajita
No matter what you just want to eat ‘em

Philly beef cheesesteak, they’ve also been topped
So many possibilities, I’ll never stop
Bleu cheese and steak makes a hell of a filling
Portobello themed restaurant, I’d make a killing

Chicken Alfredo, or coconut shrimp
How about spinach artichoke dip
Turkey and dressing or how about pulled pork
You’d want to eat those with your fingers or fork

Taco, or nacho, or enchilada
How it gets better, I got zip, zilch, and nada
Or I don’t know how about spinach frittata
You could go Greek, lamb, feta, and Kalamata

Mediterranean, flavored quinoa or couscous
So many options, man just turn me loose
Lemon pepper, scallops, or Oyster Rockefeller
Or Chicken Rice saffron, it would be yeller

At this point, I feel like Bubba from Forrest Gump
Going on about toppings, oh well over the ****
Buffalo Chicken or Asparagus turkey parm
Just about anything you can get at the farm

Goes great on a mushroom I think you can see
Most people wouldn’t, but, hey they’re just not me

Volunteering is hard to do
especially when you are under view
of other parents who never help
but nonetheless, you help their whelp.

Along with your child as well
to do whatever sport or activity swell
you work hard and give your time
you may even hurt your spine.

Raking, shoveling, loading, and moving
so your kid and others can play ball or shooting
baseball, football, Softball, soccer
dancing, cheering so many a blur.

Volunteers up late at night making plans
hauling equipment around in vans
writing schedules is a pain
and no matter what somebody’ll complain.

Have a meeting same folks there
those same people are all that care
it seems every year other parents just complain
they do not care to share our pain.

And come help and make it better
but they are the first ones to write a letter
to the paper or our group
telling us that our work is ****.

Or worse words often times
they act as if we committed a crime
against them or their kids
but without us, the programs would be on the skids.

With no one else to help us out,
we do our best without a doubt
are there people who do wrong?
stacking teams so they are strong.

Yes some, but not all organizations are that way
some just want the kids to play
and be the best they possibly can
but all we hear from the stands.

Is negativity all the time
those people didn’t even offer a dime
if you coach or administrate
a league or work the gate.

Or even in the concession stand
I believe you deserve a hand.
if you do not like how some things run
then volunteer and have some fun.

You might learn why some things are
be willing to help and you’ll go far
in making the groups run better
just by being a go getter.

Offer new opinions and you will see
most groups will listen willingly
so come in with an open mind
make some suggestions and you will find.

Outsiders are welcome to the pack
help keep our group on track
to meet kids needs no matter what
straight complaining matters not.

So be an aider
not a complainer
volunteer some time
and you will find.

That the people you often hate
just need help to administrate
those people may become your friends
it’s on you to make amends.

When I left it was sunny and blue,
90 miles later a blizzard I drove into,
from a warm 77 degrees,
to a 32 degree northern breeze.

Blowing snow and building ice,
slipping and sliding is not nice,
heater running on full blast,
driving slow going nowhere fast.

Then clears up and blows away,
we take off and think ok,
but down the road, it starts once more,
the weather wins, plus one score.

There is no truth and no transparency,
I’m beginning to believe every conspiracy,
about our government, it is full of lies,
not even including the foreign spies.

From the top to the bottom, every occupant,
lying and cheating, running rampant,
not an honest one is included in the bunch,
they would like to enslave us is my hunch.

Figuring out how to not pay their bill,
and making regulations so everything is uphill,
the Fed just keeps printing money, though it’s worthless,
we just keep on borrowing it as well though mirthless.

To control our thoughts and what we do,
whether we smoke and what we chew,
nothing is off limits anymore,
they raid us, without even a knock on the door.

Deny us our liberty, constitution destroyed,
how can they even continue to be employed?
by We the People, make no excuse,
we elected them so I guess take the abuse.

Common sense has died and withered away,
political correctness is the rule of the day,
add in Muslim jihadist and all of their ire,
it’s like throwing gas on a funeral pyre.

A repeat of the 60s and Civil Rights,
de ja vu, though it continues to fight,
Russia has brought back the cold war,
Obama never even answered the door.

With Crimea and Ukraine and Syria,
no to mention the Yemen, Somalia and North Korea,
Iran and Iraq and Afghanistan,
too many problems to be manageably ran.

Antibiotics not working on bugs anymore,
the end of the era, and of what’s core,
attacks in Paris and Mali, soon where else,
I suggest strapping your pistol tight to your belts.

But that offends too, in fact, it is booed,
let in all refugees, so we are *******,
not all of them are bad, most probably good,
but it only takes one, just ask folks from Fort Hood.

I don’t have the answers, and I do not pray
God gave us a brain to make it go our way
but we must sleep in the bed which made
it’s like watching one hopeless parade

find good where you can and take care of your friends
and family, as what we know comes to an end.
the state of the world should cause some fear
so try to sit back and relax and enjoy a beer.

Laughter is healing,
laughter is stealing,
adding back minutes to your life,
that you can spend with your kids and wife.

So be a fan of comedy,
or try a bit of dramedy,
trade funny stories with friends,
laughing is better than crying in the end.

As my third eye opens
what had been seen is truly revealed,
normal people sitting side by side,
with demons that are unseen, yet felt,
as no one enters their location.

Some people glow, an angelic light,
others the raw and oozing black of pestilence,
true nature revealed, though some I wish I had not seen,
in normal sight, the truest beauty is underneath the ugliest,
dangerous and evil.

The soul ******* vampire in the corner,
tries to hide when she realizes she has been seen,
her veil of glamour no longer hides her true nature,
the man on her arm has no idea that he is being fed upon,
slowly, and surely she absorbs his life energy.

The one I try most to ignore, however,
sits on the seat next to me, as every day,
a friend, who doesn't know his true nature,
a sweet friend and husband and father,
who oozes red, and a ghostly knife resides in his hand.

I pray that he never uncovers his true nature,
and the human nurture wins out,
The witchy woman across from me is indeed as described,
she winks at me and grins a knowing smile.

Two souls mixed
like ingredients in a blender,
stirred, mixed and shaken,
blended into something new,
spilled, just a puddle on the floor.

Poured from one vessel to another,
the flavors shared,
lips licking and tongues lapping,
experiences, transverse the divide,
a distance no longer, now bridged.

Free flowing emotions,
writhe, toss, turn and shift,
senses heightened and dulled,
dichotomies entertwining,
a drunken free for all,
trapped in a pistoning stimulant.

Smells and flavors scent the air,
spills drip here and there,
sticky reminders of,
how messy this can be,
cleaning it up, and relieving the memory.

Wasting your life,
looking for perfection,
is like hunting for snipe,
with the wrong directions.

Under Full moon and naked,
in the neches river bottom,
I searched and called,
but never caught 'em.

Cause as you know,
they can smell your clothes,
and they only hunt in moonlight,
walking on six toes.

Can't use a flashlight,
cause they'll see you coming,
can't use a net
they will hear it humming.

No matter what you do,
or the rules you follow,
it just doesn't exist,
this truth is hollow.

Lost in a forest of purple trees,
buzzing around, green man sized bees,
stingers so long they wield them swords,
one just stabbed me, oh my Lord.

Swirling thoughts as poison takes hold,
darkness looming, pain untold,
blacking out for an unknown time,
waking, naked covered in slime.

No arms, no legs and hooked to tubes,
small gray creatures skin is smooth,
they have no mouths nor no eyes,
in my mind, I hear their lies.

Hums and clicks and pops surround
mechanical devices all around,
needles drive into my eyes,
screams of pain but all inside.

Mouth stitched shut no sound comes out,
although in agony I cannot shout
at my limit, I pass out cold,
as I wake up I feel old.

Safe at home in my bed,
all must have been in my head,
I lift the sheets and go to stand
I have robot legs and hands.

Screaming now I try to run,
out the window that's not the sun,
insanity looms inside my brain,
suddenly I'm filled with shooting pain.

Days later, but the clock says hours,
I get up and hit the shower,
feeling great and spirits free,
but what's this scar on my knee?

Bubba and Cedric, fire up the pit,
throwin’ shade and talking ****,
Javier shows up with fajita,
mesquite smoke runs off **** mosquitos.

Red hots sizzle and skins wide split,
beer so cold, my hands frostbit,
chicken thighs, marinated in dill,
next to it onions and peppers grill.

Thin strips of beef, crackle, and pop
Bill pulls up, he's a cop,
grins and says we’re being too loud,
opens up a beer and joins the crowd.

Music pumping, Master P, and Hank Jr.
everybody is dancing, even Aunt Petunia,
walking a circle when the cumbia plays,
this is turning into a hell of a day.

It's time to eat, ****, forgot tortillas,
no, we didn’t here comes Maria,
brought some for us, all homemade,
washing it down with moonshine lemonade.

Time for dessert, what do we got?
apple cobbler, in the crock ***,
Kita made cake, better than ***,
moon pies in a box, brought by Dex.

The sun dips low but not the tunes,
too much fun, nobody leaving soon,
drinking and dancing and telling jokes,
cigars come out, time to smoke.

Sun coming up, it’s time to go,
night never stopped its awesome flow,
bleary eyed and sleepy as hell,
let's go home and sleep a spell.

People deep in the south,
brown, white and black
if there's trouble, we got your back,
when we’re cut we all bleed red,
I believe that’s enough said.

Give me stars and bars and collard greens,
sweet lemonade and simple things,
Stevie Ray Vaughn and Lynyrd Skynyrd,
Texas brisket and beans for dinner.

Deep fried okra, and cornbread,
Black Diamond melons on a flatbed,
don’t be stupid, but if you start,
we’ll just say, “well bless your heart.”

Always fixin’ to go do something,
usually fishing, or maybe hunting,
running ‘round our stomping grounds,
never know what can be found.

Jack and coke or Coors Light Beer
copper still, dripping out clear,
fried catfish on Saturday,
in the barn for a roll in the hay.

George Strait sings out The Chair,
while we enjoy fresh country air,
sitting on the truck tailgate,
holding her hand and feeling great.

Basil leaves and cigar smoke,
touch my olfactory bulb,
Harvey Danger's Sitta plays,
explaining I'm not sick, just unwell.

Pool chlorine fragrances,
trigger spinning Rolodex cards,
ejecting a memory of parties past,
I shake the ice in my empty glass.

Sweet and sticky simple syrup,
muddled basil, a pinch of salt,
lemon juice waters the mouth,
the piney taste of Bombay gin.

Shaking now, the sound of ice,
an avalanche of sound and flavor,
now ready to slide into my cup,
refilled, to the night and my chair.

The warp and wrap of leaves,
feel familiar in my hand,
as does the clip of the end,
the flick of a lighter flame.

Couple of Puffs and I enjoy,
Earth and spice notes,
I blow out a cloud of smoke,
quickly carried on the desert breeze.

I lean back in my chair,
another puff or two,
a long sip of basil smash,
and reflect on yesterday and today.

Fingerprints of others,
are the memories,
good times, trips, fun,
sadness, helping, hoping,
forensic evidence of life,
that can never be collected.

The full moon cresting the horizon,
red to orange to gold then silver,
a crispness in the air, a bit cooler,
as the breeze illicits a shiver.

Leaves crunch underfoot,
as Pegasus flies across the sky,
each star an exquisite diamond,
shining through the atmosphere.

Suddenly the smell of leaf smoke
touches my nose, leaving me longing,
smores and hot chocolate and a blanket,
snuggled up with my wife.

Memories taste like candy,
as a smile of trick or treaters
like the walking dead,
haunts my thoughts.

A change of winds direction,
cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg,
the neighbor baking,
thanksgiving will soon be here.

I sit back in the porch swing,
clear my mind of thought,
and just enjoy the early darkness,
as summer fades away.

Though our streets are flooded,
towns and cities destroyed,
we will rebuild,
lots of help has been deployed.

Harvey brought it's wrath,
but Texans fight with heart,
though it will take a while,
there will be a brand new start.

From Rockport to Beaumont,
and the towns in between,
soon we'll be back on the beach,
drinking beer, wearing sunscreen.

With the sounds of hammers,
and of saws and drills,
don't worry about Texas,
be assured she will heal.

With glint of scale
and gleam of eye,
the dragon riders
take to the sky.

Armor black
and swords of steel,
we give no slack,
will make them kneel.

A few months we have let them be,
a new village built beside the sea,
master wants us to move them north,
dark mountains near his magics source.

From behind the clouds
and lit by the moon,
with whipping shrouds,
we dive down to this tune.

Commanding fire we build a cage,
villagers once again enraged,
their archers fire into the night,
we've had no casualties but some day might.

With whipping of my dragons tail,
I tear away all their ships sails,
they will go where I say,
or to masters wrath must I pay.

we've sent them running, all the clans,
I've not been told the master plan,
some day soon at the mountains base,
we shall see what will take place.

I whistle and dragons soar,
once again to our roosts door,
to see our women and drink beer,
and later on hold them near.

A little red Dachshund,
lies on a rectangle green mat,
curled into a c, and looking at me,
soaking up stripes of sunlight,
as they filter through the blinds.

An old wooden school desk,
it's platform once again in use,
ready to write on golden lines,
as it is every day at this time,
on line ruled stripes of sunlight.

A millipede crawls up a dresser,
like interconnected living links of chain,
it dances to the sound of a box fan,
swaying in its breeze, I do not fear its bite,
as it is made up of stacked rings of sunlight.

A black and white cat chases nothing,
intermittently across the living room,
curious, I watch closely, nothing,
ah there it is, a bit of reflected sun,
the size of my watch face runs across the floor.

The dripping sounds of water,
the floral smell of shampoo,
dissipating steam,
as I open the door.

Red hair pulled up in a high pony tail,
revealing a tanned and freckled neck,
a bit of back and a smooth pair of shoulders
the towel wrapped around her, damp and blue.

Whispy baby hairs blow randomly,
as I softly blow on them.
a full body shiver shakes her body.
I watch her watch me in the mirror.

With lips that barely touch skin,
I begin to travel around her neck,
to the extremes of both shoulders,
and down her spine that I can see.

Stippled skin rises in response,
reflected blue eyes, begin to show flames
as she reaches for the overlapping towel,
and lets it drop to the floor.

Naked vision of beauty,
as she lays in the tub,
red hair floating at her shoulders,
pert ******* reach out from the water.

Soap bubbles glide and pop,
along long legs lathered,
green painted toes breathe air.
I long to get in,
but it's time to go to work.

Tumeric and cayenne spice,
early morning skies,
the blue that I can see,
reminds me of Cozumel.

Sizzling and popping,
peppered bacon dances,
In the skillet,
adding aroma and music.

A drum beat of perking coffee,
joins the sounds and smells,
a rooster crows in the back yard,
as I crack brown astrolarp eggs.

Golden yolks suddenly match the sun,
the sky, now just blue with a single cloud,
I scramble and reach in the cabinet,
for pinches of cayenne and tumeric.

Ancient secrets revealed,
in the burning flame,
all the answers concealed,
because we lost the game.

Titans will cheat,
to hide their truths,
you had the winning hand,
but you're lost, sitting in the booth.

They played their final card,
and picked up their winnings,
and were gone before you realized,
they stole our new beginnings.

Why isn't tomorrow today?
I would really like to play!
Goodbye, I'm not going to stay!
So enjoy the rest of your day.

dry and brown desert
temperatures climbing high
cool lake calling me

Silver moon, silver back,
the beast guards her.

Thought, deeds, and evil needs,
lurk in the night.

In moonlight glow, his eyeshine shows,
keeping creatures at bay.

She is naive, and cannot believe,
that he is keeping her safe.

Darkness and agony surrounds,
in my ears the blood beats and pounds.

Pressured existence and tears,
Climbing a mountain filled with fears.

From me spews a pain fountain,
I am a disharmony spouted.

I prefer societal mutiny,
as governments are full of villainy.

They want to place me in camp internments,
I simply want to slip away, in adjournment.

Hands that hold,
love continues bold,
kisses, hello and good bye,
any reason when close by.

Nibble an ear,
just to be clear,
whispers of lust,
drive sparks to combust.

Fan the flames,
it is a game,
that you must play,
if you want to stay.

Be sincere and true,
in whatever you do,
straight from the heart,
continues now, just like the start.

Long piles of scallop and small sea shells
Searching sharks teeth between the swells
a newer place today, different back then
I reminisce and I begin to grin

Summer fun on an islands beach,
Its namesake takes a plane to reach,
from cities north, drive 45 to the south,
until you run out of road, at the gulfs mouth.

61st street, turn to the right,
sparkling waves, at midday, is bright,
A giant crab, with an Italian name,
a fixture for years, it remains the same.

Memories made through the summers of youth,
family reunions, we met as a group,
The water is muddy, but it was always fun,
soaking up the Texas summer sun.

First thing in the morning,
my thoughts are bright and clear,
as the sun shines lighter,
ideas begin to steer.

One way or another,
a poem usually occurs,
sometimes clear and crisp,
others, enigmatic blurs.

Romantic writes of love,
or sometimes more of lust,
then for a contest,
will it win or just go bust.

As I sit in silence,
Queensrÿche plays with fluidity,
I sit and write,
with Silent Lucidity.

Sunfish, koi, and angels,
swimming in the sun,
copper glinting reflections,
watching them is fun.

The shadows and reflections,
chase each other on the wall,
much like their wet cousins,
chasing baitfish in the fall.

Delight in whom, you are with,
contrite, try not to be,
try something new, Turkish delight,
kiss the one you love, deeply tonight.

The flavors delight the tongue, in a rush,
fingers roam and play, with a tender brush,
delightfully savor, all that is she,
love her with, all that you can be.

Delight her up and down,
from head to toe,
ignite her inner delight,
tell as well as show.

A verse to delight, with a little rhyme,
read it to her with feeling,
her delight will be divine,
and will leave her reeling.

Coffee poured in my cup,
it sits there and steams,
as I go to the fridge,
and fetch a bit of cream.

Hazelnut or plain,
causes little splashes,
as I pour it in the cup,
the colors, at first clashes.

The brewing storm,
in my coffee cup,
is quick to subside,
as I stir it up.

White and black collide,
to make café au lait,
something new is born,
it happens every day.

overwhelming sweetness
cupped tongue filled
the pleasure is mine

Hallucinations of perfection,
reality doesn't matter,
I see what I want to see.

Summer night in August,
on the dock's roof deck,
overhead, wishes to be made,
as the meteors of the Perseids,
leave silver trails across the sky.

The lake whispers quietly,
in the subtle night breeze,
reflections of shooting stars,
are breathtakingly beautiful.
In the cool lake water below

A hand slides into mine,
and a head falls on my shoulder,
a contented sigh is let out,
as loving wishes are made,
watching nature's meteor shower.

Nasal breathing from the herd,
the splashes of tails and hooves.
Yaw, and get along,
the slap of a rope on a leg.
Cattle and river's smell fills the nose.

scorched earth
and the smell of turpentine
thunderstorm in the pines