If in love,
It's a crime scene.
Raise your hands.
Fall on your knees.
Wrap yourself in yellow tape.
Surrender.
Find a window to look out on the world.
Walk in the compound.
Contemplate a break out.
You're in love,
And it's captivating.

Our foes,
Some of whom we can surely name,
Pray to the same God.
A rose is a rose is a rose.
The rain and sun
Cover the same game site;
There's no referee calling foul,
Illegal procedure or out of bounds.
This is more like Gaelic Football,
No perceptible rules for finger pointing
From the spectators in a very large stadium.
But, make no mistake,
Every game has a timer,
And his thumb is poised
On the stopwatch.

I shared an outside table
With two young American graduates
On an amber Scottish day.
They were completing
The European tour:
Not unlike the Romantics
Walking the continent.
A cap to an illustrious degree.
One scholar was blunt:
Do you believe in God?
No.
Why do you say that?
His companion leaned in for my answer.
Because you asked.
Both reclined into a smile.
Of course.
Then settled
Into a half-empty glass.

A devout pacifist of the natural world , with all the affairs of the day given their due diligence ..  My muse , a small yet adequate brick house surrounded by woodlands .. I peacefully succumb to misty rain as evening songbirds sing to the close of Monday .. Thankful for another Dusk , inquisitive as to the days ahead .. Biological clocks returned to zero ..Rest ..Renewal ..

I would prefer my solitude and gift of self , answerable to Randolph and no one else  ! I soulshine alone with the Earth , Wind and Sky as my trail with undying love and affection for all creatures .. Plastic ******* I've long since melted , molded into splendid candles that light my quest for guidance and direction .. Surfing the bell curve free of the pack instinct , armed with abundant memory , opposable thumbs and a mountain of creativity !