To my Turtledove in residense.(1)

The Almond Tree of my garden.

Hiding gently behind my hanging baskets,curious ,well aware

On this very fresh,pure and lucid morning,I guess you unaware

Was scouting around the blue sky,well perched quite proudly upon

The branches of my rich “Almond Tree”,loaded with fruits anon.

Gentle Turtledove, you and I are blessed to be sharing,in our bosoms

With pride and joy,this holy instant perfumed by the almond blossoms,

That feeling of bonding made me suddenly aware that we could all

Enjoy these moments of closeness with each of those around us all.

You would agree gentle Turtledove,that warmth is a skill,alike love,

For sure,and should be spread around and shared around with love.

Capacities for magic powers of tolerance,acceptance,understanding,

Are there,imbedded cautiously within our soul and heart,hearing

The multitude of suffrance,despair,and injustice,upon then we could

Move mountains,all obstacles against all odds.Lending a hand would

Aliviate pains and incertitutes,stretching our magic powers we could.

Thank you my Turtledove

Geneviève

feels like trains whistles and that old stink of forgotten byways, sometimes it itches. sticks in your teeth and takes up residense, peculier needs, we laugh, though we know truth, how it irks and twindles. finds euphonisms and weepy sleeps, murky bound delusion, disillusioned quandary, early morning waifs, always abundantly clear.gotta get home., as the parlance goes';'to mine"