Brittle Crown

Through Aspen the glow of street lamp
halos along the pathway home.

While ants sleep now in dark labyrinths,
we praise them for their diligence.

How quiet the earth is tonight
just the sound of a bullet.

Across savannas of Indian Grass
pollen clings to yellow stamens.

A prophecy that changes
with the perfume of dying petals.

Not even diamonds of rain
can glisten the ring of a brittle crown.

'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow:
they toil not,neither do they spin:
even Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these.

"Matthew 6:28-29


Is that you, my dear lily of the valley, cupping moonlight?
Tossing frivolously to the wind your heavenly perfume.
Traveling along the darkest path I will always know you.

Down hill, away from the moon
my eyes turn to the darkness within.

Away from long days of musing
in the sun, dreams of love.

Each footstep falls in the spaces
cleared by woman before me.

Holding fast to the wings of Pegasus, my child disappears
Her rhinestone heart sparkles with magic wrapped in a puff of cloud.
How many seasons has it been for the Weeping Willow?

Can one capture the scent of sandalwood on a summer wind?
Ah, to be born with a poets heart, sweet nectar on the tongue.
Still I wait for autumn to color the pages of my journal.

Within the throat of a virgin
the whisper of dragonfly wings.
From her hand a white flower
bringing forth a sweeter bud.
So be the days of the heart
as it waits for the Seraph

Far out, over a cold ocean,
I see birds hunt the autumn swell.

Sometimes they meet in golding fields
Pheasant plumes or pampas grass?

Colors blending in stratagems;
Rapt in the nearness of death.

What's this sway of sea flowers
underneath the moon's fixed stare?
So smooth the sound of your voice,
genteel words gliding over me
A bouquet of wine upon my lips,
the night I dared to dream.

Rain wakes me, a willing lover
who tosses blankets to the floor
elixir of rose petals,
on parted lips a sigh flutters;
in the belly of my dream
a nestfull of robin's eggs.

Chimera Blossoms

Rain wakes me, a willing lover
who tosses blankets to the floor
Drunk with the moon and stars,
a climax into deeper pleasures
Absorbed in leafy kisses;
the clandestine pulp of a bud.

Such soft words you whisper to me
as sunset lowers its garments,
fallen among orchard fruits,
the moon tangled in prickly gorse.
Wherefore, is the entrance to Hades
any deeper than the heart?