For the first time death occured
and I wasn't affected by it.
Maybe it's because I didn't know you personally,
maybe because it was expected,
you were sick, terminally.
I hope you had a great life. Rip. Eternally.

He isn't the moon,
But its sultry glow

He isn't the sun,
But its shine

He isn't the clock,
But its time

He isn't the hands,
But the holding

He isn't the poem,
But its rhyme

He isn't love,
But my heart

I stood in the dew kissed grass
Barefoot at midnight
Lilac, carried by the breeze
Filled my mind with you
The darkened sky looked down in shame
The whippoorwill song,
Echoes my sins
Repeated, through out the night
The question the owl asks,
Long since past "who"
It asks where my scarlet letter is
Even as I wear it on my face
The crickets laugh aloud
And the frogs croak at my disgrace
But I dare not hang my head
Nor will I feel shame
For louder than any night can call
My heartbeat speaks your name

Reflections of Paris this morning , for all the inhabitants of the world , especially those inspired by beautiful works of art and architecture  ! Those fortunate enough to have dined in world class eateries on cuisine prepared by Master Chefs , marveled over the downtown skyline high atop prominent monuments ! Impassioned lovers perusing her avenues , window shopping store fronts , boutiques along famous boulevards ! Senior couples recalling their yesteryears with great joy , frolicking , happy children playing in parklands , feeding songbirds with euphoria and curiosity , strolling walkways along the riverbank at Dusk with great wonderment and personal reflection  
The poet and poetess , musician and thespian , ballet dancer and street performer .. To lovers young and old , the continued hope of gaiety and splendor at every turn !
She is lovely indeed , the Queen of all that is beautiful on this Earth* ..