"All of my stories
are true," I said.
"Even the lies?"
"Especially the lies."
She looked at the floor
in tortured disappointment
"Truth," I said, "is like treasure,
the value of which is in the eye
of the beholder."

the thrumming
in my chest
a quickened pulse
with just the thought
of you
i can see your smile
before me
and my hand reaches out
to touch you
   stroke your face
but i grieve
in the absence of
the love
i once felt
my heart aches
for feelings
i cannot find
my blood pumps
i breathe in
and out
i am alive
but without you
without someone
i am empty.

Martini Poem

Peter and Bill over at the sink.
They're making martinis, 'bout time don't you think?

Pete prefers Beefeater, Bill's choice Bombay,
They've tried many others, but don't often stray.    

Bill's very precise likes it 4 to 1,
Pete, not so particular, vermouth, almost none.

Pete likes an olive. Bill likes a twist.
If there's no fruit he'll use lemon mist.

The first sip brings a smile and good conversation.
There's nothing quite like this Royal libation.

They sip and enjoy, gaze out at the view,
and offer a toast, here's to life, here's to love, here's to you!