Rain makes me feel safe.
I’ve long found home in the storm...
Why can’t it just stay?

There was a time when we were happy together
The stresses of life were nothing more than the weather
And every smile on our faces brought us pleasure

But there are times in life when the wind becomes fast
And the sunshine turns to rain so the warmth doesn’t last

There is a split in the cloud, where the sun breaks through
That little bit of sunshine is when I see you
Without my sunbeam, what will I do?

I'm so into you,
I could never be into
myself that way, too

I put my hands on the table after you..
I drink from your half-empty glass..
I sit in your still-warm chair.
I signal you but I am a candle at noon..
I call you but I am a snowflake at sea..
Please don't go anywhere without me..
I long to be your shadow.
I want to taste you like food..
A hundred emotions tangled like hair ..and trivial words..

Down a path where arteries will meet the scythe.
Deceased silhouettes suffocating in defeat.

A spark struggles to illuminate the way before the feet.
cloaked in disbelief, conversing with grief.

Climbing an empty ladder,
dreams clustered beyond reach.
With worn bones aiming to reach beyond the known peak.

i keep wondering
why i wake up every day
feeling a little like the muted sunlight
behind my blackout curtains.
and then i remember:
you were in my dream.
                                                          ­                     and only in my dream.

What I still and will continue to love about your eyes are...

the multitudes of hues and moods embedded within
Gripping abundant roots of attractive backwoods
and memorable fruits beside a glass of sweating beer that is on its way to finding room temperature
To name a short plethora of goods

Not to mention but rhyming about  Emotions that ensue
from a few
all inclusive spring rays shining into branches of oak and cedar needles
painting shadowy sharps on the  
greening blades
cast out under and around them

Summery flares shot between the solar
sparking luminescence

Shutters of blue steam breathing when winter is  looming and when it has come

I don’t even need to mention fall
since I would wager
Mother Nature stole every grade and color
from your visionary pair of awareness
Like a psychedelic alchemist enhancing each wordless life form into artistry
From her droppers of autumn in associated definition
anyone sees when thinking of the 3rd quarter
From trickling infrequency of leaves falling
spread out on course
with all end-of-the-line runnings of any pillow top creek
sweeping across the horizon tiring out in a dry bed of mossy river rock
These are what I still
and
will continue to love about your eyes

and the day will come
when someone will ask  
requesting me
not to write about them again
Opens the arsenal
for the most tragically moving poetic scribblings
leaving their ring
in the dust with her silent questioning
“What in the ****?”
and
The meaninglessness of their dollars spent