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Saturday, April 18, 2015

my lips kiss thee


one week from today in the annals of time,
the twenty-fifth of April, i shall be one year older
and to proffer from this i shall say
to the wrinkles on my brow and to
the sag of skin where once the vanity
of youth had muscularity derived ,
my mind is still curious and non-sated 
consuming every moment ever so tenderly
and most gracefully  

still i bathe in the portentous waves in the sea 
and shall until my step no longer moves forward
or my hands no longer feel, or mine eyes can
no longer see the beauty of the night and day
and the eyes and hair of my lover so if i have to 
i shall request books in brail or a voice to read
the words of poets while music plays

i shall ask for the waft of flowers to always be
by my bedside with the window open so i can
hear when the morning comes from the song of
birds cheering the sun to rise and although i’ll
probably not sleep much for the fear of not waking
when the time comes that i must close mine eyes
to sleep and dream the dreams of all who left
before me, i shall ask a favor of thee, kiss softly
my lips, my lovely, so i can take thee with me

tiny toad and me


in the midst of slumber, in solitude i sit
listening to the stream and tiny wakes
that role softly over stones and sticks
and a small water toad stares up at me

i sit here and the stream runs and runs
the tiny toad sits underneath the soft cottons
that hover above slowly traversing the day's sky
and then with the stars of night, alone it sits
pondering its place in all that is

i sit enjoying cardinals, two bright red and another,
darker feathers, tweeting and chirping at each other
flying from cherry tree to oak, from an ash to a maple
tree and so the tiny toad and i sit still watching this
dance on the bank of the stream

grey begins to shade the light of day and the
breezes begin to wane of warmth from the sun
to a cool attire of dusk but the stream runs on
and the tiny toad and i sit pondering... wherefore
are we in all of this

now the dark of night begins to cloak the day
and my eyes begin to slowly drape like shades and as i
lay back wandering into a dream where i and my tiny friend
share the breath of air into this moment of slumber
in Nature's abode wondering… if neither one of us were here
would the stream still run, would the birds still cheer the day ?