Subdue frantic hurry,
stop reaching for a morning in waiting,
no manic slurry,
just dew, in a morning
not waiting.

To be with you in your free house would be great,
I’d never dawdle to late,
I’d knock on the door ripe on time,
and, maybe, flowers flourish in rooms,
a start starts to bloom;
arms wide open as the ocean.

With your eyes on me I can see.
You put the ball in the hole,
& step from fall;
dear dancing in aeroplane summer.
Your tinder smile,
not touched Tinder for a while.

It wasn't a while anymore,
today I saw moored.
As ever a tribble of joy,
you are what what's for,
fore
ahoy!

I feel
I want to show you
my going home face,
my face would look like home
if, my home was your face;
or if your face feels home
on my face.

You flew in short May,
thriving in nest,
sore from birth
but soar earth with best.
With dreams fell wing;
but fly once, & sing.

Summer may be the death of you,
it's when you stretch sinew.
Do  joints wear in hot air,
when you chase every fly,
with all pounce,
with all ounce, of power;
in May may you reduce your hours.
But, not to suppose,
be breeze blows,
& free flows.