Your Song

I will write you a song
Bright as your summer eyes
As airy as your wind-swept hair
Streaming like castle banners
Down your sloping shoulders.

Your voice is the melody
Dreamy and sleepy
Blending tones of urgency and desire
With plaintive, casual conversations
Punctuated by notes of laughter.

Beneath the air
Your heartbeat thrums
The bass line
Hot and wet
And deep as an August noon.

Your song will be crystal
Ringing high notes
Lofty as starry skies
Clear as mountain streams
Fragrant as garden mint.

I will write you a song
Penned in the indelible ink
Of passion
Waning and waxing
Like midnight seas.

The anthem of our union
Your song
Is the opus
Of your breath
Exhaled as the composition
Of pure need.

But for a moment, darling
Hush.

Let stillness
Be our audience.

In a moment
We will fill the air
With music
And song will rain down
As manna and quail

When I write your song.

Song of Contentment

Give me
A mound of wheat
Boardered by lilies
As
All the botany
I require.

Border this beauty
Between
Ivory towers

Fragrance it
With the musk
Of earth.

Flavor it
With sweetest
Honey
Dripping from
The honeycomb.

Sate me
With a goblet
Perfectly formed
Filled with
Mixed wine.

Grant me the vision
Of twin fawns
And sparkling pools
Which hold me
Enraptured
Evermore

And I shall sing contentment.

Unspoken

Things unspoken
Are often deeper
Than the ability
To express.

Phonics are no match
For the rumblings
Of a true heart.

These messages
Communicate
In twin flames:

The eyes
Are the transmitters
Along which
Real emotions course.
When connected
Between sender
And receiver
There is a surge
Pure and mighty.

When lovers eyes
Are seperated by distance
Or dimmed beyond reception
The cosmic atmosphere
Charges
With the truth
Broadcast
Clear channel
By memory alone.

Love is the power
Of creation
The order of the universe
And profoundly understood
In the most simple of ways…

And wordless all.

In the Gazebo

We sat in the gazebo
On the city square
Rain falling
In an all-day
Soaker
But we were oblivious
Each charmed by the company
Of the other.

Passersby hurried
With umbrellas
Or newspapers
Lifted above their heads.

The pooling rain
Erupted into tiny geysers.

We spoke of family
Dreams of the future
Hopes for the present
All falling between us
Pooling and erupting
Like rain
Time passing
Like pedestrians
Fleeing the mizzle.

Sequestered by the weather
Nobody willing or wanting
To share the space we occupied
The hours passed
Until the day’s color
Faded to monochrome
With the early setting
Of the autumn sun
Beyond the thickening clouds.

Nothing came of the dreams
Like the rain
Running down gutters
Into streams
Toward rivers
To the sea.

Rains fall
Days fade
Rivers run
And dreams flee.

But memories pool.