in your voice on paper
might I dream of your green eyed wisdom
floating metaphorically
upon clouds and wind songs
there in blood spilled inks
remember
memories of blushing cheeks
full lips quoting Whitman to me softly
where on a hill in Autumn's calm
I fly on owl wings and turtle doves there
real to me
wildlife you breathe into life
with imaginations so unreal,
you calm the storms of sea growling rains
beat back thunders and winds
with green eyes
one glance
I remember there
on a page to
be fully understood by all,
the wild dances.
How do you do it?
I will never fully grasp.
I will always love. dance to your
songs.
My Queen!