I think I'm young,
know I'm the one,
with good looks too.
But then boo-hoo,
I look and see
who's  looking back at me!

The Chief
Orange may yet
get peeled, and the pulp chewed
beyond recognition, then tossed
away.

The stars look down with promise, those distant points
of fire, conjuring what ifs.
I ponder the alternate realities, the maybes that might exist.
Perhaps the answers lie just beyond the pane on which patterns
can be traced.
Figures emerge from the wall, a horse, a giant, a forgotten face of
past or future love.
And elevator music is the radio background as I am lost in
daydreams, wishing to hold someone in my arms,
not for love but for humanity.

Thunder,
lightning,
pyrotechnics
from
Alabaster Heights
are
a show
from sea to sea
to reinforce
dispossession
by those
who possess,
and are
Demons, sort of!

I'm caught, struggling,
held tight, in your
clutches.
I think,"one more comment
or link," but I'm trapped in
your web.

Two retired souls communing together.
One says,"Feeling strange, I can't see."
Last thing he said," honey, I love you."
He warned the family that he'd no longer
celebrate the holiday. That's why he wrapped
the gifts so early.
She still hosted a yearly family reunion on The
Midwinter Feast.
That tradition continued until one October
in the hospital.
We recently sold their house.

I hear the sprinkles in your voice.
I see the icing in your smile.
I feel the oven in your touch.
I see the pastry of your love.
I devour the fruits of your sensuality.
You are one exquisite dessert.