sometimes I think of you
   as of a gentle loving breeze
   whose caress
   makes my body ache

at other times you are the storm
in which I plunge in wild delight
and let myself be tossed
around the world

and then again
I feel surrounded
by warm playful waves
gathering force slowly
   down the stream
   then bursting forth
   in one magnificent
   deafening roar

amid the forests of my life
you are my lair
   of soft moss and leaves
   where I recline
   and live my dreams

you are the mountain
from whose top
   I look upon the deserts
   breathe blue skies

follow the flight of birds
into the sun

the tears I shed
drenched a cold spring ground
flooding the creek
that will
in time
feed waves
and take them
to you shores

salty and wild
and hard to mount
even by master surfers

the tears unshed
have built a lump of stone
lodged heavily
right in the middle of my chest

I breathe
it hurts
and makes me cry again
but will not roll away

the hill of Sisyphus rebuilt
close to my heart

during a quiet, warm twilight
with angels whispering
in our ears

we ran around the dogwood tree
and collected lightening bugs
in a glass jar
that lit up our dark night
our small world

that tiny flickering
mortal fire

living lamps
floating
flashing
in a glass jar

and with angels whispering in our ears
all we knew was love.

I'm tired of that
Humpty Dumpty
kind of love,
proud and walled
up,
falling
shattered into a
thousand tattered
pieces.

Love drives between
the lines.
It doesn't rush
headlong into
oncoming traffic,
taking the lives of
others.

It's never
cruel or brutal.

It comforts the sick.
It doesn't think with
its ****.
It doesn't leave when
times get tough.
it buckles down through
this rough and tumble
game we call life.

Your raven hair drapes
my bronzed back.
I attack your neck and
*******, beamed by the
moonlight, I carry you to
Nirvana on a chariot made
of steel.

he was sitting back on a shaded picnic table
his wooden cane laying across the bench
peering towards Luray and Shenandoah Park
absorbing it's beauty while he still had the chance
I was on my morning walk
a few miles
my attempt to remain in some semblance of shape
stave off the inevitable for a bit longer
I wasn't far behind this gentleman
perhaps in his late 70's
10 - 15 years passes like an unrecognizable blur
when you reach this stage
what was he thinking about
I wondered
the kids he never sees
the wife that may or may not still share his days
or perhaps...the love that he let slip away
into the fading mist...his past
I thought I'd say hello on the next pass
but he was gone

high along a ledge
out of the shadows she comes

the mournful yipping
a longing howl for another
and deep in the forest
of cliffs and need
she is listening
too
shining eyes searching
waiting for the other
to return her plea

my lady of shadows
longs to lie beside her lover

i am here,
she is saying,
i am lonely
and i need your love

a dark cloud swallows the moon

somewhere above the cliff
above her
among the grasses and willow trees
an intoning prayer
a beseeching howl