I would not possess thee,
Nor let my self be bound,
Yet I shall love thee evermore,
‘Til worlds stop turning ‘round.
Songs of love I’d sing thee,
And flowers for your hair,
But words and wreathes can not begin,
Your beauty to compare.
Come, be still beside me,
While breezes sing their song,
Of butterflies, whose laughing flight,
Brings happiness, ‘ere long.
Let us find, at twilight,
A bed of mossy green,
And wrap ourselves, in starlight mists,
With just our love between.
While the fireflies glimmer,
Like echoes of our love,
We’ll let our spirits sail the waves,
On starlight seas above.
As the night o’ercomes thee,
Before the day is born,
I’ll pray that dreams of love will bring
Thee, to another morn.

Give me nothing,
I’ll ask for naught,
My needs are few;
A smile, a kind word,
But, failing that,
A moment,
Just one brief period
Of time,
When I am in focus,
In your eyes,
If not your mind,
A second,
When I am all
You see,
When you recognize that
I exist,
A single, sentient, being
With feelings,
With dreams, but
I ask for too much.
Give me nothing,
It’s what you’re best at.

It should have rained today,
But it was bright and windy,
With white clouds climbing
Over the mountains,
Like flocks of sheep.
I made believe I was the shepherd,
Chasing after my cloud-sheep,
Sitting on mountain tops,
Playing my flute,
A song that would make you
Smile.
But you weren’t there,
And the wind
Blew the sheep away,
And it really should have
Rained today.

I know you’re in there,
Hiding behind my eyes,
Filling the hollows in my head,
Making me wonder
Just who decided that I needed
More love.

Show yourself,
It’s okay,
I know you’re in there.

It’s not like I haven’t lived
With somebody else’s hands
Working the sheets,
Tacking back and forth,
Down the channel,
Trying to miss the stink *** drivers
Who can’t see passed the beer cans
In their fat, sweaty, hands.

Oh, I’ve sat at the helm,
Listening to the tactician whisper,
“Stand on, stand on, ready to come about.”
Waiting for the shout,
“Hard a’lea.”
Cutting over ‘til the compass reads
North by northwest,
Then standing on,
Standing on.


But this is different.
The whispers didn’t have a voice,
Just a presence behind my eyes,
And the call to tack came before
I was ready.
But I turned the helm,
And the sails swung to port.

There,
Sitting on the rocks,
Singing their silent, beckoning songs,
Their blue-green eyes
Flashing behind the tendrils of their
Foam, blonde hair,
Sat the Sirens of my life,
Smiling their bow-lipped, ruby smiles,
Laughing because they know
There’s no way in hell
That I won’t run a course
Straight into their laps.

You must think it’s funny,
Watching this,
Laughing at how a sailor can’t
Tell the difference between a siren’s lap,
And the Fiddler’s Green,
Laughing at me,
Behind my eyes,
Tempting me with
More love.

Your life is like a paisley scarf,
Filled with twisted teardrops,
Big and little, colored like a garden,
Blowing in the breeze.
Watching it tips my balance,
But I can’t, not watch.

So drawn to the whirlpool
Of colors and sounds that generate
All around you,
I’m like a leaf in a wind storm.
One moment dry and brittle from the
Rarified edges of the storm,
Then pulled in close,
And filled with the moist heat
Flowing from your passion,
I’m made whole and fresh again.

I want to reach out, pull myself in,
And bathe in the essence,
Emanating from the center of
Your life, then toss back my head
And learn to fly.
I want to smell, and taste, each flower
That grows from your garden,
Like a bee in the springtime.

I want to be wrapped in that paisley scarf,
And tucked into a drawer,
Right next to the things you wear
Closest to your skin,
To lie luxuriously bathed in your scent,
And I want you to think about me,
When those garments catch, and hold,
The warmth of your body.

I want to wear you like a cloak,
And watch your swirling colors
As I dance across time, and space,
Showering you with pearls,
And laughter, plucking fruit
From the mountaintops,
Feeding you with my lips.

I could spend a lifetime
Counting your colors,
Kissing your flowers,
Swirling in the vortex of
Your passion,
But instead, I watch, and wait,
Until the storm whips that scarf
Close enough for me to
Reach out and take hold.

I am the Wind,
Unseen partner,
Dancing with the clouds,
Ruffler of hair, and
Breath of the world.
I put wrinkles on oceans,
And smooth the tracks of man,
From sand and snow,
I whisper to lovers,
Carrying messages between them,
And in the Spring,
I make love to the trees.

I am the Sea,
Lifeblood of the Mother,
And the womb of life,
I nurture storms, crush continents,
And feed the world.
My children hide the sun,
And wash the sins of man,
From the land.
I keep their secrets within me,
And carry their lonely souls
From heart ache to heart ache.

I am the sand,
Once noble as a mountain,
Now tossed by wind and sea,
Filling the hollow places
And scars upon the Earth.
I am the voice of humility,
The fate of the tallest peaks,
Falling through fingers, like time,
Like love, untended.

I dreamed of you again last night,
The warmth of your embrace,
Your soft lips against my cheek,
And the scent of roses on your skin.

I dreamed of you again last night,
The way your hair falls
All around your face, and
Over the pillow we share.

I dreamed of you again last night,
The way our heart beats mingle
In our loving, until they stop,
For one second that goes on
Forever.

In silence, I dreamed of you,
And in the silence of my night,
My soul heard your soul
Cry out its passion, and
My soul answered,
Screaming to be heard above
The silence of my dream.

I dreamed of you again last night.
When I woke, and reached for
Your warmth, all I could feel was
The cold of alone.

There is a well within my heart,
Whose depth can not be known.
I draw from it, the nourishment,
For seeds of love, I’ve sown.
It matters not, how much I take,
The well can not go dry,
It’s deeper than an ocean, and
It’s broader than the sky.
And if my love should fall upon,
A vessel over-filled,
It is not lost, it falls instead,
Like rain, on fields untilled.
For love is like a river full,
Which sometimes overflows,
Yet leaves a richer field to which,
I bring more seeds to sow.
You see, my love is just a gift,
And giving is the key.
The happiness it brings is mine,
A gift I give to me.
No greater joy, have I yet known,
Than being able to
Reach deep within my well of love,
To pass the gift to you.

She opened like a flower,
Soft, moist,
Glistening in candle light,
Scented
Delicate, like sea spray, or
Mornings
In the garden, with roses,
Dewdrops
On their delicate petals,
Petals,
Filled with anticipation
Of love.
Oh, love,
Let me never drink a wine
Sweeter
Than that, now upon my tongue,
Or hold
A prize, greater than that in
My arms,
Or know more joy, than to have
My lips,
Gently kissing this flower.

There are moments,
When a scream of defiance,
Fist thrown at the heavens,
Would be the action of my heart.
I want to grab the Fates with both hands,
And shake them until they acquiesce,
Giving me the life I want,
Taking the pain, the loneliness,
The nights spent staring into
The darkness,
Silently speaking her name.
I want to run naked through fields,
Dive headfirst into unknown rivers,
Daring the thorns and rocks
To touch me,
Fighting to win a prize
I’ll never hold.
Instead, I sit here,
Pushing words around a
Paper replica of life,
Drawing passion from a well
Deeper than the heavens,
Pouring love into a garden,
And praying that it will grow,
Knowing the harvest will
Not be mine.
There are moments,
When the scream of my soul,
Is like the roar of a storm,
Howling over oceans,
Only to die in the desert
That is my life, here, now,
Silently.
My blood still pulses,
Filling dreams as strong today,
As they were before the
Graying of my body,
Before the light in my eyes
Became mostly tears.
My hands still contain caresses,
Yet to be given.
My lips and my tongue
Can still form gentle words
And soft kisses.
I am still a man.
Alas, the Fates have caged my passion,
Left the fruit of my dreams
To wither on vines, now hidden
Behind a younger forest.
Even the winds seldom reach me,
With the whispers I still long to hear,
And in my heart, I scream at the world,
When they come upon me,
Those moments.