Only if I could draw
what I see in my mind
Pencil to paper
Shade for dimensions
Fine lines dark and light
Giving life to the imagination
A look into another world
Showing the vision created
Creatures of another place
Life redefined Come to life
Through the lead point
Paper the foundation
Emotions and creatures alive
Before the eyes

I saw her there
and stood amazed

Her beauty pierced me soul
and could not cease

My only fear-
I cannot tell Birds from Bees

Still to shed the germane party-line,
my one  liners may have beaten you anyway,
I'm no longer hearing  your Grandfather tick tock
neither have Newcombe and  Stephanie
Now feeling sorry for your passing,
though my discursive  may be heard elsewhere.

I might be dead, horn-fed poultry.
Pluck me leave me cold and bumpy.
Eyes gone slimy,
Feet still trying
But I'm still your love.
Keep salting.

the calico quilt
ragged and torn
memories laced in the patterns
the stirring of leaves
and the scent of autumn
falling foliage and falling hearts
to differentiate the same
would be futile
for leaves and love
both fell in fall
and together became kindling
ablaze in the hearth
burnt to be the same ashes
to differentiate the same
would be futile
the calico quilt
left by the fire
flames leap onto the fabric
of that calico quilt
together in ashes
under the warmth
of a fiery blanket
the quilt, the calico
tarnished, blackened
all as ashes
to differentiate the same
would be futile

Delirious purple moon
Music of my head
Through tiny pink dreams
Aching for my mothers milk
Rose petals beat by sweet whispers
Some rust through the shine