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Luscinian voices in the thicket of a midnight waltz
single male birds singing from a point of solitude  
closing down on city sounds inside a forest vault  
the sound of their vocals, nightingale's prelude      

calling in mates with whistles, trills  and sounds
sending messages of longing from across the throng  
listening from cup-shaped nests, eager to be found  
they wind up feeling drawn by their melodious song  

she, awake as the dawn and free as a bird in the sky  
he, as cuffed to her beauty as  the wings on her back  
they mate on a branch as soft as a nightingale's sigh  
away from the songsters, who are trying but lack

luscinian voices singing softly of dawn's pure glory
while two nightingales share a life, and love story.    

June 11, 2021
Jesus be my light my One and only
my candle in the dark my saving lark
help me to avoid all things not Holy  

in this life be my lantern for night's dark  
so when my Grace arrives on eagle wings
I may behold the murmur of your calling hark    

you are my Faith diamonded ring      
all that I hold most dear like trust and love  
you are the Master of my puppet strings  

in you I find refuge and hope from above
you, joy of my success are my one true Love.
I was six years old, the year was 1966.  Mom left me alone in a plaza
with my one year old sister in a perambulator.  
She went inside to do the grocery and asked me to take care
of her while she picked a few items;  
Along came two teenagers.  Inching closer to the carriage they peeked inside,  
"OOOOH  she's cute, is this your baby sister ?"
The next comment froze me where I stood,    
"We are going to take her, " one of them said,    
while the other grabbed the handles of the carriage
They shoved me aside and took off.  
I was in shock but I managed to run inside.  Sobbing  I told my mom
they had stolen my baby sister ;
Mom ran out of the store and chased after them.  
They ran fast but mom ran faster with me lagging behind.  
Suddenly they got scared when they heard her yell and pushed the carriage in the middle of the road.  Mom grabbed it before a car came by,
but slashed her leg on the steel frame while saving my sister from a car.
All my life I have had an intense fear of losing someone dear
Mom and dad both are both gone now, but the memory of that day
will live inside of me forever.

A true story that happened to me.
Night roses dipped in purkinje, tendencies of blue
lost inside this dream I urge the winds to carry me
onto the hammocks of the night where antic roses lie,  
moonlit soaked and mulched aside a big blue moon ;
Festoons of flowers strung across the midnight sky
scented boutonnieres for Saints and Gods  
Angel wraps and gauzy shawls caressing softly stars
lost in a shimmer high above the sea , I am nigh
In exploration I am closing in, onto sweet allay
loosening the strings of yearn for my turtle dove  
here in home sweet heaven, timeless as a rune  
soaked in purkinje, eternally making room.
Sunflowers bloom beneath a tinted blue sky, white dollop clouds in    
Undulating fashion, hovering over yellow petals and deep golden seeds.  
Nestled in soil slim tall and beautiful, birthing cordially for the      
Floriculturist in all of us.  A wide expanse inside a garden, they    
Loom, over plants such as Gerberas,  Lilies, Carnations and Limoniums;
Open your window take in the resin scent of their lace. They are a  
Wonder of nature, a gift from Mother Earth herself.  To name a few,    
Echinacea apricot rainbow, Emilia tassel  and echinop globe thistles,
Reviving each year with renewed strength they bring us love and beauty .
Lost on a sailboat going nowhere but towards a dream
I glide deeper in blue waters looking for the endless seam
night has fallen softly all around me, I can only gleam
here in my sailboat, standing spar to spar a pulpit realm

Finding only calm I mesh as one with the dolphins in the sea
the wind blows softly in my ear whistling past the bow now free
the calendar of time fades as dull as grandad's silver cutlery
I breathe deep, deeper then mermaids, there are three *

Entering forbidden lands, my fantasy is real  and real is not , I could  
for I'm warrior of old navigating, counting knots on a  piece of wood
ancient trees wave from a distance standing where they always stood
while my unflappable sails align to the sky, 15 knots no more all good

Finding solace in a cup of Joe  sitting on a berth at the edge of night
the stars are pantomiming with the flicker of their equestrian light
she sits beside me  reading my tea cup in her flimsy gown of white
the ghost of my Fedora, together we are lost it a nautical twilight.


May 25, 2021
WHEN THE SUN SETS ON YOUR TIRED EYES AND THE WORLD
AS YOU KNOW IT HAS TURNED FROM GOLD TO EVENING AMBER,  
RETRIEVE IN THE CHAMBER OF YOUR THOUGHTS AND THINK OF ME;
REMEMBER THE LAUGHTER WE SHARED ON OUR WAY TO THE LAKE
THE BRUSH OF A LEAF AGAINST YOUR CHEEK,
THE CARESS OF MY LOVING EYES EASILY SLIDING
TOWARDS YOU , LIKE THE DAWN SLIPPING INTO A NEW HORIZON,  
MAKING OUR WORLD THAT MUCH BETTER ...
WHILE THE FISH SWAM IN THE GURGLING RIVER WE FISHED
SIDE BY SIDE, HEART OF VELVET SKIN OF HYDE
TWO LOVERS LOSING THEMSELVES IN THE MOMENT
WHEN THE SUN LOWERS DOWN FROM THE PAVILLION SKY
REMEMBER HOW MUCH I LOVED YOU AND ALWAYS WILL
WHEN THE NIGHT ARRIVES TO SIT ON YOUR WINDOW SILL
REMEMBER TO THINK O ME,  AND BE STILL.
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