fischers rap
on a hot tin roof
bristol creek pools
over rock and seed
english wolfhound (and the barkbuster)
stroll pine lane
vibrant colors
of a cool spring
in cob yellow and
forest green

field mice squander
in cotton wind
goats and ferret
hold seven hour trim
raven and ****
meddle and forage (on a splendid fiaker goulash!)
crickets and frogs
hidden
in swollen grey logs

creepers fill the
cut stone walls
coy wolf high
on a frayed white rope
eagles perched
at trudy’s bend
catamounts laze
on a snow base cedar
(pared arbutus bent  
through a failed ground rock)

brush spider spins
a timely web
brown bears fumble
at the spirit jamboree
quizzical squirrels
crack their nuts
as pillow clouds float
over telegraph trail

12 point dances
on talus and scree
hen hawks float
in a big hard sun
clydesdale and coach
trot copper smith road
(glancing down
on finch and the warbler
whistling through
colander row)

lavender fills
the peat soil box
mountain cats
guard the heavenly gates
black eyed ridge
is wide and open
the country squire hails
this fruitful land

Marry me into the spaces in your life,
Because the mountains shift ever so slightly to fill empty skies.
I was once the sky,
Searching barren deserts for mountains.
Until I realized, I am mountainous.

Let me fly toward the horizon,
where the night lies down on the sea
and the mountains wrinkle the sky,
where the dreams assemble
and the boundaries fade in the wind.
I'll alight on that thin ribbon,
precariously balanced
between myself and the infinite,
my eyes slivers of blue,
clouds my wings.
And to hold me,
only the rhythmic, unceasing beat of my heart.

Your eyes hold mountains in them.
I could easily trek through every trail, count every stone, and memorize the amount of steps it takes to hike to the tops and back down each hill.

It's safe to say, I would not mind.
I would not mind adventuring you
for the rest of my life.

White mountains capped in satin,
North face hiding behind a veil of frigid diamonds.

How I long to caress your powdered cheeks.
To float down your ivory aisles.
How I long to toast your champagne kiss.
To hear you softly whisper "I do" beneath my feet.
How I long to traverse across your velvet curves.
To fall head over heels into your feathery embrace.

It's something.

Old friends
New snow
Borrowed time
Blue sky

There's just something about getting cold feet.
I could wed you every single day & never grow tired of this frosted bliss.

Desire to go
Desire to be,
Good to you

Come, let’s go
We’ve got no place
To be, to see
Where the light takes us

Take us, mighty light
We follow blindly
We follow with purpose, but
No justification will do

Only when and where there is
no doubt, shall we be able to
find each other,
within ourselves

We can find each other
Again & again &
Get lost in the
vast emptiness
Of calamity.

I could hear
the angels sing
as I stood upon
the mountain top.
I looked
to the land below.
Then to
the heaven's above.
I swear
in that moment,
I believed in God.

Beauty,
          is what she looks like
Sadness,
          within her light
Darkness,
          comes with her presence
Wings,
          carry me in the night
Mountains,
          hold us way behind
Winds,
          when skies are tight
Luck,
          is all what we need
Happiness,
          is far from my sight
Future,
          is not coming through
God,
          please make things right

I can't read all the books,
or be all the people,
or live all the lives.
But I can feel every tone,
shade and hue.

Fill my lungs with mountains,
and grass and skies.
Watch my life branch out like
a moreton bay fig.
Here comes lonely
and blue,
and I'll feel every tone,
and shade and hue.

There's no way out of my head,
so I'll devour the rain,
beautiful and annihilating,
full and terminal.
Every tone,
shade and hue.