I don't look into your eyes
I escavate every amber stripe
kissing the pin wheeling crevices
a rotary ferris wheel blurring and twisting
mingling as if your eyes of auburn oil and gold
were CD-ROMs racing at light speed
breathing your heart beat with every rotation
I peer into my universe and yours
God's and the eternity in between
and my stare slips as your eyes smile with your lips
and I curl with the dimples of your eyes
the moon and the sun collapse
and paradise blooms wide
in every amber glisten of your pupil

‘TWAS THE TREK BEFORE CHRISTMAS
                      (with apologies to Clement C. Moore)
                                        December 2013


‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the ship,
Not a tribble was stirring, not even a blip.

The crew was all nestled so snug in their bunks,
All sleeping alone, including the hunks.

The comm came alive, whistles, sirens and all.
The captain sprang up to answer the call.

When what to his wondering eyes should appear
But a small shuttle craft that was drawing quite near.

The little old pilot, so lively and quick.
Kirk knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

To the rear docking bay, it made a bee line
And made a great landing, a-flourish and fine.

Kirk raised up his head, when he heard the tube door,
And stared at the stranger, when he saw what he wore.

Ignoring the captain, the stranger began
To fill all the post seats, not missing a man.

Then turning around, not missing a stride,
He entered the turbo and returned to his ride.

As the shuttle departed, Kirk heard on the comms,
“Merry Christmas to all, yes, even the Roms!”