Sing on, sing on,
sweet nightingale!
You fill my night
with flowing song.
Enraptured, I
will drink of you
'til moon and stars
are gone.
oh yes!
'til all the stars
are gone.

Sometimes, when poets write of love,
we speak of body parts,
but the part of you that I love best
is hidden in your heart.

How can I kiss your kindness?
Caress your thoughtfulness?
That's what I adore the most,
beyond your mounded *******.

The fount of understanding
flowing from your lips
is even more attractive
than your shapely waist and hips.

Your ready sense of humor
is very **** too!
You get the joke that others miss--
I love that about you.

While others pant of naked skin
and love that's passion-driven,
we share a secret smile because
our love is baked with leaven.

A heart that loves you and is true,
a hand to hold that doesn't cling,
someone to talk to all life through,
a friend to trust with everything.

I didn't intend to do that--
I HATE it when people
sneak up on me
with evangelical intent!
I merely opened my heart
to hear a poem, and
God bubbled to the surface.

No, not that God,
the one claimed
by the Christian right:
(who want you
to believe that Jesus
is a Republican--)

I mean the God you knew
as a kid.
Of course there's a God!
It's so obvious when you look,
wide-eyed and innocent,
at the miracle of existence--
how cool it is
just to be alive!

But then, growing up,
you found out
that there are Religions
that each have all this STUFF
about who God is.
They make it seem so complicated!

But really it's very simple:
Just love.
Everyone.
Always.
Devotedly,
passionately.
And--
forgive EVERYone.
That's all.
No, it's NOT easy,
but it is simple.

It works in every heart
It works in every culture
It works--
with or without
religion.

Religion might help you
find your heart's door handle--
reading about
the loving kindness of
a saint,
an avatar,
a rabbi,
a mystic,
a Sufi,
a Master.

But it could be
that God is always
singing a love song
to you
through a flower,
that rainbow,
a sunset,
the voice of a friend,
or even,
my beloved,
this little poem.
Are you listening?

A HUGE muscular tomcat
invaded our space, ate
our sweet Stripes' food,
and looked like he wanted
to tear her apart.
Rushing in to save her
from his assault, I
chased him away and
kicked him
right in the ****
as he fled my wrath.

After my momentary
satisfaction passed,
I regretted having kicked him.
As it turned out, he won.
Stripes had a beautiful litter
of his kittens, and when I
kick him in a recurring dream,
I wake to the pain as
my foot forcefully
strikes the wall.

One gorgeous Spring day
we gathered on my deck,
a few friends and I,
to sing and play
some beautiful music
loved by us all.

My home, on a remote ridge top
of the Sierra mountains,
offered a panoramic view.
Not a single house
could be seen--
only the vast forest
surrounded us.

We accompanied our voices
with two guitars,
a flute, and a
small harp.

As we sang,
the air grew still,
and the tall, fragrant pines
encircling the house
seemed to lean in,
listening.

After awhile we paused,
to savor in silence
the sublime feeling
created by the music.
The harpist stood her harp
on the table.

Just then,
a gentle breeze came up
and the harp began to sing
as the wind's fingers
caressed the strings,
enchanting us all
with a heavenly music
unlike anything
we had ever heard.

Would that my heart
were as that harp,
responsive to
Your lightest touch--
singing endlessly
of love.