All day up the hill
on wobbly legs we climbed
to reach the Elephant Rock
and crawl our way to the top
at sunset to look
down the final ledge
into an eagle's nest!

I am not one to treat a beast decent
but I've fed that demon as of recent
this creature eats my peaceful pieces
with hate increased, my whole decreases

I may not even be an adult yet. But I still know what I want. I'm not asking for perfection. Quite the opposite indeed. I'm looking for someone who knows how to fall. Who knows how to get back up. I wish for a girl who would love me with all her heart, for I would do the same. I hope to find a girl who doesn't care about ***, someone who is fine with just cuddling and being close, no promises of promiscuity. I wish for someone to call my own. In turn, I hope for someone to call me their own.

A hundred crows flutter,
in a cawing, cawing, flutter—they wing
up and down and up and down and round
the crow,
vacant-eyed, shiny-feathered,
lying on the tarred road,
under the sun,
after a hit and run on the highway.

Every dainty dish of love
she rapturously serve him
has an unmistakable  distinct flavor!
He repeatedly wonder, often aloud,
that what would be the magic she applies,
in her smashing haute cuisine ensemble.
When,
it's love, like butter, pure and dense
in large dollops,with it's flavor invariable,
is the one constant major ingredient,
in every which dish she  cooks;
for all his questions, persistent and curious,
her answer would be just a smile mysterious.
In their love life enviable,  this one thing
still remains the million dollar question!

beauty indeed,
a fair maiden proudly giving me her bounty
a mountain far off upon a golden horizon
the breath of earth misty upon the calm sea
a calm word from a strong man to a hurt child
a stranger helping an old woman across the street
homeless vagabonds hugging and sharing one piece
of bread in the snow
a four legged friend faithfully guarding
his human child awaiting the bus
two birds feeding worms to their young
and a lion nurse an orphan gazelle, god yes,
I have seen beauty indeed. And heard her name in nature's churches,
in temples of the streets, in heavens on earth.

Flowers mesmerised
by their glow aloft the tree
do have vertigo.

A flower, lowly perched,
mesmerises my grandchild, chasing...
a blue butterfly.