Let’s pretend its kismet
I’m not opposed to that
We can meet in the piazza
Have ourselves a chat
You’ll know me by my red dress
That I have chosen for this day
And the trio serenading us
Will see our voice in sway
You may order coffee
A latte for me please
Maybe we can break some bread
Fon due our talk with cheese
Pigeons on the cobblestones
Will flap their wings in pray
Lovers smile a knowing
As we hand in hand our day
You may bring your camera
To mark this fait accompli
And I’ll scribble in my notebook
My Je t’aime, mon chéri…

"Go on", prodded the elbow.
Allow the weep that nocturnes with the hum of a thousand trapped butterflies;
puddle in their escape through tear ducts once blocked.
Howl and trickle with a presence of mind and let proud the sob as the waft
of spring onion, wild and potent, fumes in displace.
Foetal in a pool of rusty violin strings, that in gesture of their fanciful flight,
rock amongst the reminisce.
And then and oh yeah then, clamber tall the sodden bojangle, survey the encounter and with eyes anew, washed fresh, see it all, truly see it, as the ****** of crows that it is.

on desk
on floor
against the wall
it’s true
it’s true
I have a few
it is not here
or over there
my word!
my word
is everywhere…
I Seuss’d …It’s fun! :)
—————————————
I gave you my word.
Now yours.
Use it.
Warm your sentence
if you will.
And tho not glamorous
it could be.
Made up
with coloured eyes
blush cheeks
ruby red lips.
Yet know, my word is not made up.
My word, that tickles my fancy
not tangled in frilly misguide.
More passionate.
That of a tender shoulder
is honest real.
My word is utter natural
as most good words in life are.
And tho it told of no expectations
it is brimful of meaning.
Take my word.
It is for you.
Pop it deep within your glory box
and remember.
My word was as real a word as any true.
…and that is how our words ought be.

Shallow knights on sallow steeds
Gallop wildly toward their needs
Unkempt, they choose, no other course
Hollow deeds of no remorse

Brazen they, unwilling maiden
Waylay, subject, deface safe haven
Of primal need, to sanction fill
Plunder callous, sorrow nil

A windswept ‘more’, a day forbade
A quest so dire, an escapade
****** is sealed, advance be done
Oh coward man, ruthless one

A heart of weep, a claim of story
The night is dubbed to shame his glory
Subdued grief that claims the mourn
A page of innocence, abruptly torn

A shallow night of darkness deed
Now owes a debt of karma bleed …

Again
she has her fill
then only leaves
me
now cold
used
amid the other chipped souls
in wait of her next pleasure

Once
a chosen favourite
long ago
time
now crazed
my insides
stained
weak
a withering
I am no cosy

She wipes wet lips
fanning
with rooibos
over silken forearm
We blend
She devours my very reason
There is no tomorrow
No taste nor savour
She takes me again and again
And yet
her touch is gentle
re strained
a much practised ceremony

Just as always
I alight
and warm for her
She steeps
my flush
in exotic desire
wrapping strong afflatus fingers
tight
around my aging girth
I am drawn to her
This woman
for whom I spill
again…

It takes a life time to write a poem.
For we are that poem.
We are that lifetime.
Borne untouched.
We leave the safety of a warm cocoon,
one that wraps us in our gentle embalm of trust.
And in this wholly venture,
of life now aroused.
Comfort is questioned.
Reason shaken.
Love oft spilt,
like a shimmering of milk,
flavoured on pages lived.
and this is us.
The knights spent, satisfied.
Discourse now a cacophony shattered.
But it is with presence that we remember and hold.
That the truth is waiting, always.
In bide of time.
Jubilant as the holistic Clementine,
tucked amongst the serene pages of yet to come.
And still
and still …
We are as sprinkle infinite, shredded as the coconut that falls as thought from our palm.

There is a moment
Between here and there
Where thoughts relate
Of care and wish
Be it page’s edge
Where words run off…
And meet their fate
In silence thereof

And in that moment
Where worlds stand still
Of stories collide
In rambled smile
Faces are touched
Hearts beat thrill
Little else matters…
Lest another’s share

The moment conceive
Of humbled truths
Where ground rules lay
and souls are searched…
A bare of real
In choice of worth
Chance taken per se
In friendship’s birth

Toward this very moment
Thought notwithstanding
Once penchant sought
Desire expanding
A turn of events
In change of mind
Life circumstance
Decides it’s time

Why, ask yourself?
… that moment’s gone