Dawn light rises above my apartment balcony
giving life and colour to my potted friends
(especially the orange of my marigolds)

The chirping of blue, yellow winged souls
resounding in my empty ears
as they hop and dance to the harmony
of my shuffling footsteps
with sunlight as their spotlight

The chug of steam exits my panelled window
my rose coffee screening its scent
onto the projection of my nose

My vinyl records shifted aside,
finding my favourite one.

Sinatra sings;
Holiday serenades,
I pick up my pencil
scribbling away
-- a perfect sunday morning to spend.

As sure as Sunday
As mean as Monday
As true as Tuesday
And Wednesday goes by
As dark as Thursday
As bright as Friday
As soft as a Saturday morning sigh

Church bells ring
the lord calling you to bring your unclean soul
he that forgives all
is ready to wash you clean
take away all of your flaws
Sunday morning love is in the air
He that loves you is ready to fill your void
Protect you so you won't be destroyed
take away your emptiness
and fill you with holiness
clean your mess
while you say your grace
pray for forgiveness
he even listens to the smallest requests

Around you
defences drop,
ramparts rescind,
blocks become silly things;
you open with smile the fleck of tut,
move all to joy
and end the shut.

morning lights an overdose
easy breathing in the honey glow.

the light pushes through my dead plants
illuminating the wrinkled petals

the wind blows soft and smooth
my eyes are heavy and dim.

behind the lids dance cosmicly
patterns and queer visions.

leaving the real world to seek the truth
ill bring you back some flowers.

Um, um, don't let me parse that out yet.



(sonnet #MMMMMMDXLII)  


What of the two espressos long gone hence?
Perfection, as lunch' fine spread was t'avail.
Eclipsed in ya, one phone call, aught detail
Was likewise, 'cept our dinner, or the sense
Of fleeting time I grapple for now, whence
Oh me!  Now Texas winks at me like's bail,
Ten-gallon hats with crueler heat to scale
Than Lincoln's Land, and lo, a man fr'intents.
It's wonderful to be encouraged fer
All that to fear the LORD. I've missed it too
Long now.  To talk together like's not poor--
Of Scriptures--ah, and with a man.  I do
But fear now losing what's sae precious, were
It mine to have.  Ne coffee's like this brew.

06Aug17b

I did not come with an instruction
Like a box that says,
"Fragile, handle with care."

Most of the time,
I am quiet and alone with my thoughts.
Sometimes, I am louder than the trucks honking in the freeway.

I am the calm in the middle of chaos.
I am also the storm itself.
I like logic,
But live to defy it.

My stories may not be all rainbow slinkies and polly pockets,
But I know,
I am made of miracles and chilly Sunday mornings.