Poem
a drink of words
sometimes shaken
stirred with thought
the cocktail
is you

It's hard to chase the shapes of sleep
those grey elusive foggy sheep
who graze upon the fields of night
they wrap themselves in dreams to hide
while tired eyes stay open wide

what work is this
who spoke with warm and loving breath
to charm the birds and wake the trees
who stirred the breeze
on bleak and barren land
who turned a skilled and knowing hand
to thaw the frosty frozen ground
who cast the springtime all around
and caused the sleeping plants to grow
who's work is this
I do not know

Adrift on a rising wave
not made of sea
or silver hum of distant bees
nor wind
or leaves on waving trees
not earth not sky
nor singing birds
but movement made of living words
that float and curl
and dart and hide
strange fish to catch on a poets tide

Peace
that shy elusive beast
a spotted doe or hind
hiding deep within the forest of your mind
which makes her difficult to find

If you follow in my path
tread light in my shade
excuse the faltering steps that I made
if I left my heavy footprints showing
the damage I assure you was unknowing
erase my dust
walk with care
make it look
like I was never there

Come spring
extend your hand
caress  the waiting warming land
give us singing birds on green and leafy trees
swap gale for breeze
soft light and scented air
disperse our shivering winter cares
and bless each fertile blooming day
through April and then on to May
please stay