You were a wild, tortured soul
It would take a warrior to tame
The beast that lodged within you

And so I fought in full-battle gear
Until I could not go on and lay down the sword
My armor had dropped off year after year

Until I was naked before all, defeated
Now you are dead my love,
But not by my hand.

I arrived in the pouring rain,
Still, I don't want to forget
Not one single thing.
How on that radiant day
Hearts throbbed and overflowed.
It is then that we came to know
What it means to love.

I love you beyond the moon
Beyond the stars

Beyond all reason
Beyond any metaphor

Which I could create
And then I love you still

Beyond the body and mind
Limits set not by man, but God

On and on, and yet more
Beyond time, tide, shores

Then, my darling, I love you
Beyond these boundaries

And back again.

Touch
A heightening of senses

Touch
Bristling beneath it

Horripilation
Sweeping up bodies -

From the Latin, horrere pilus,
"to bristle" + "hair" -

The most delicious
Can be the most poisonous

Exploding with each
Touch

Anticipation erupts
Touch

At the very thought
Of such delicious fruit

Touch

We are like a car the owner can scarcely afford to keep.
America is a loud muffler sputtering,
Wired-up that was cheaply maintained.
Problem is there's a gaping big hole in it.
No patch can fix it.  
Yet, we sputter on.

(A little ditty for the friend which we all have.)
Je t'aime,
Yet again!
No, no, no
This time it's real
She says,
Yet again!

Misses Pifflewhiff was a strange old gal;
She was away with the butterflies
Most of the time.

(I know what you are thinking.)

No, she never went with the fairies.
No fairies for her.  She preferred butterflies.
And on their wings, the old gal would fly;

In her imaginative way of thinking.