mumbles, jumbles, into the night
my baby phoenix stumbles into its plight
a better life was merely imagined
but my dove, my dear, bitterly determined

huddled witnesses
there! in the square
a drove of fireflies, watching
her rebirth in fire, laid bare.

her tuckered tail, dead-centered --
shaking off crimson pearls of lunar lunacy,
henceforth, bleeding on her own time, her own tenancy.

her talons look at us.
we look at fiery lips that lash and scorch her.
never more before his penetrating gaze,
as her wings form a column of blaze.

she soars, she screams:
but to nothing but scorn --
the square-goers think she is just forlorn.  

my dove, my dear, for your ****** death --
I pray it greets not a dragon's breath.

Beulah gave out
Blossoms this spring
As big as sunflower heads.
They entwined the branches
Like the ribbon enclosing an expectant shower gift.
It's fragrance was the extract
Of an unbottled aroma
That is the Magnolia tree.
I rooted her in the yard
Four years ago.
She is iridescent for a brief time
Past mid Spring.
She has many Springs to go
Above the green growth below;
Many seasons beneth
The blue Summer skies above;
During the Autums ahead,
When I am dead,
And colder than Winter snows
Below her;
She will be there.
Rooted with care.

From all I say,

You can tell where I'm at
Whether or not am sincere
Whether it's all pretence
You could easily find the lies and the truths from all I say to you!
I'm an open book before the one I love
And that much control you have over me
You know me enough
You know where my mind is at.
I accept it all.
I don't fight at all
It's all okay.
I'll be fine.
I allowed it in the first place
I have to deal with it.
I just hope it all fades and...  
and we get back to normal or the awkward new normal
I don't know what it will be
But I hope it's the good kind
One that blossom
One that subdues the gray area we in
So we both live in peace

The flowers pass in waves
Waving as they go
Colours fit to burst
Petals pure as snow

The serenade of spring
The love new life will bring
Blossom on the trees
Fragrance on the breeze

While flowers pass in waves
Waving like they know
Colours fit to burst
Petals pure on show

The cavalcade of spring
When pigeons coo and sing
Heart strings stretched out tight
Each day’s a new delight.

(Plucking in the night ;)

Metamorphosis from the start of the day,
January’s promises,
had so much to say.

The beginning of the cycle,
to the end of the new.
The remnant of the spring morning dew
moves summer breeze
into leaves of a green hue,
and the Heartache of July.

The sun rose and set with You,
until it rained
and the skies once again turned a somber shade of familiar blue.

Metamorphosis of the self,
turning like a snake.
Shedding the skin of heartache and
remaking myself, again.

Metamorphosis I bloom and break,
I wither and wake
through the hardships of the year,
taking a new found shape
of me-

The moon wanes and waxes,
while the heart mends and sax’s
continue to play sweet melodies from the month of May,
and we are reminded of the day
that breaks and dawns.

The body yawns
from the weight of the year.

Yet still, the metamorphosis blooms and births
a new beacon of light,
preparing herself for the thirty-first night
and the turn of the calendar, again.