Behind my father's house
and across the creek
there used to be what used to be
an old mill.

Three black stone triangles speckled green
the carcasses of walls
ceiling free stood stooped around
a stagnant finger of water.

There is something sweet
in what sticks around
after a building fails.

To My Beloved Dulcinea,

the very thought of your
beauty and wonder
let me cast aside perils
with but an image in my mind's eye
of your sweet face
gives me strength on lonely treks

In visions
I burn for you
I soar in your triumphs
and howl like a demon in your
tribulations.

when you smile
I swim in your joy
it is by you
that I may ignore defeat.

Frost speckled, somber & silent
bare trees stand apart.
Brittle grass stiff with frozen dew
fragile underfoot.
Black fingered branches scratch the wind
grasping not a breeze.
This dismal grid holds promises
of delicious fruit.

Something rests upon those rosy cheeks
What pairs well with that bobbing smile?
An apron? A milk cow?
Those Sturdy pillars you call legs
tap, tap, tap,
tap, tap...
I think you belong in a painting
You & your voice.

Encoded upon your face is another beauty as well

not secret but subtle

I can recognize it with my eyes

but I can only read it with my hands

it lines that which is obvious

giving it richness, making it interesting

while your mind constantly writes

and re-writes

new beauties

on that lovely face.

Hello World,
I just wanted to let you know
You might want to brace yourself before directing your gaze upon me
because I just got a haircut.
Yeah that's right!
That old other me,
who was content with looking just short of fantastic,
he is gone.
Check back for him in maybe a month.

Suddenly, announcing itself awkwardly,
a thick drop landed a peck upon my windshield
singular, its consequence ambiguous
until a sum of lonely droplets
gave way to rain quick and constant
pressed against my direction
yet offering no hindrance as the patter found its rhythm
then a lapse filled with wind
but again it fell to meet me till the border of the moment
then it was over
and I was home.

take off your clothes to put on
your animal costume
come be a beast with me
you can bite & stink
and never worry

come be a beast tonight
our true and gentle souls
can have our bodies back
in the morning.

Your sun freckled nose
held skyward just so
is a point & a jab
to this pilgrim intruder

Lady, I will **** on your iPad!

Language dancing like laughter
as you bustle by
I suddenly realize
that I am in your debt
for smiles too numerous
to count.

Coming as you do,
from a land so close to the sun
I am not surprised that you are filled with light
Nor am I surprised that you carry a piece of
those warm blue oceans where
music springs from all places
even the broken bottles
what surprises me is the ease
at which you share it
so that I, who have only swam
in cold dark waters
sometimes miss it too.