I want wind in my face
always blowing new,
to feel the rush across space
and through squinting eyes,
to see white and blue.

Call it freedom,
sing a song
with half written lyrics
completely out of tune
to the beat of nature living
and the humming chorus of the blazing sun.

Come home and
readjust your sight
to a dimmer light.
Lie down in bed and
feel the pain of
muscles stretched and worked
for the first time.
Roll over and sink your body
and let the mattress hug you.
Close your eyes and whiper,
"Today was amazing."

Smile. Sleep. Dream. Build.

I need to lay in your arms. Where the smell of forest resides and moonshine leaves its dust in your hair.
Where the illumination of your loving heart breaks the ice within mine
Where safety is completely defined and completely true
Where happiness is ready to embrace me as I fall into your love
Where the darkness can do nothing but watch with envy as it hands cannot reach me anymore
Let me lay in your arms.
Where the certainty of peace will forever be

.
Tangles of vine, wisps of thorn,
Roping a rocky face of granite,
High, on a hill are drops of sky,
Green hands cradle purple beads
Of the sun, whose skin is frosted
In water vail, morning days' dew
Has come, birds and bees singing
Songs to hum anew, this offering
All to ancient invitations of spring,
There will be wine and flower laid,
Before rise of moon or day is done.

i have to tell you

the thought of losing you
makes my stomach turn
my fingers tremble
and my chest ache with waves
of pain

because i've never wanted
anyone more
in my entire life
and it scares me that you have me
right in the palm of your hand

promise me you'll stay
unlike the others

promise me
you won't change your mind

promise me
that your promises
won't be bent
by passing time

that i am more than just a passing fancy
that you'd get bored of then leave
once someone with a prettier face
comes around knocking at your door

because you're starting to feel
like home

and nothing terrifies me more.

he said i melted in his arms
and i said "no, not a chance"
so he grinned and said
"oh? you don't believe me?"
and he did it
again.

I watched the paper
soak up the ink
as it blotched
breast strokes
across the page...
suddenly,
street bound
jazz hounds
legs,
pinioned
to pavement,
hand signals
of  July scroll by,
a memory strolls
in reverse as a
name  scrawled contra
across  wheat covered
hills...returned to me
chaotic,
lovely.

A single day
took it's light
from the crayon
colored buildings
laughter ran out
from a beautiful city
where the seagulls  
brushed it's wings
against my cheek
like lovers once
embraced
arm in arm,
long before
infancy.

A memory plucked
from the eye of
golden Roses
littering the street
in irradiant petals
like pieces
of shattered
poetry
in the blood
of a waxing
poet.