Archive for July, 2012

Golden Girl
July 26, 2012

In Days of Dreams and Fantasies
When Balmy Spring blows through
I cast my thoughts out to the wind
That bears them searching you.
Finding yours they light caress
Brush fingers through your hair
Then crawl neatly beside your mind
To feel the way you care.

They seek you out long weeks gone by Straining each silent hour
Listening for the sibilant chords
That mark your song’s strange power The arias playing cacophonic
Waft to melody
Your azure eyes discovered here
Beam forth your symphony.

The vision of that Golden One
Danced and laughed, then knew
My simple mind laid bare before her Exposed, naked, true.
She intuited, saw in the lair
Hiding ecstasies long buried
Her searching eyes peered past my
My patchwork world she queried.

Viewed it through windows of my eyes, Gazed beyond my soul,
Flickering light burned brightly still
My love, my life, my whole—
She reached out her hand to touch Wresting him from the night
He reposed ‘longside at last
Nestled next down-soft delight

Quelling endless void within,
Warmth and depth swept clear
Present Vision real arms held,
Gently drew him near
Her sweet scent swirled full around him Drugging him with her smell
He now knew he couldn’t loose her Turn, turn, life’s carrousel!

July 24, 2012

Torrential rain shouts at me
From my windshield
Deafening, blinding
Awash after thirty miles of free fall Suicidal to final impact
Now lying in limp puddles
Reflecting dark clouds above Glistening brightly jagged bolts
Deaf to their resounding voices Ready for rolling, round rubber
As final dissipation.

Flowers open their mouths
Drinking wetness
Perspiring fragrance
Smiling in color
Swaying under pelting massage Calling dinner to butterflies Dreaming of the gentle teen
They will adorn as bold corsage. Rainfall.
Life again eternal.
Called by the sun
For another journey.

July 18, 2012


I have a problem.

I’ve got hold of someone’s heartstrings.

It’s not a very big string Just a small strand.

I’m holding on for all it’s worth.

It’s a silver strand. If I don’t pull at a

Looks away, daydreaming

Forgetting about this hand

Holding the string.

Pulling too often Irritates the delicate heart,

Makes it terribly uncomfortable

I’ve tried pushing the string.

You simply can’t push a string

And make any effective headway

So I end up pulling on it

Trying to pull ever so gently

Too hard, it will rip right out of the heart

Too lightly, I sit holding a handful

Of beautiful string

But I can’t quite make heads nor tails

Of what I should do with it.

Heartstrings are delicate things, you know.

July 18, 2012


They waft like picturesque leaves
All about in another time and place Memories were floating from ages past
And those not yet formed
While I was stitched together in the
Familiar and not
They came into the birthing room Landing on the sticky poster board,
A living collage, my story
With a simple word at the bottom,
My name.

The genes I wear, so comfortable,
What color are chromosomes,
What is their scent?
No matter
They are where I have been,
Desire to go,
To walk or run,
To lean or stand or cry
When I watch the clouds drift by.