Writing my own ticket…
a coupon from the past

The numbers all decoded,
my gate approaching fast

Walking down the gangway,
my seat by fortune cast

The pilot sitting next to me
—the flight plan mine at last

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)

How I adore the odd ends of time and the weird night hours that accompany them.
In the waking hours of just before sunrise,
and the blissful night quiet.
The things we think, and how we dream.
The odd ends of time are truly, in the purest form,
peculiar.

There are many things I find beautiful:

Boys who love flowers,

children laughing,

flower crowns.

Drawings on wrists,

shimmery eyeshadow,

dainty jewelry,

worn pictures,

hands covered in acrylic paint,

but all the while,
nothing can compare to you, love.
For you, are the greatest beauty of all.

If you could lock up three words
to keep forever,
that were yours and yours alone

What three would you choose
that were not ‘I Love You,’
your heart to save and own

Three magical words
to live within,
now yours forever more

Three magical words
to light the way
—and open every door

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)