roses an’ violets
roses are red, violets are blue
upon your lavender bed
your silken sheets follow your curves
rounded an' smooth like ivory's sheen
sculpted by Michelangelo's own spirit descended
from heaven to bring me your scent of flower's love shade
to warm my libido with the luscious flow
of your auburn hair, liquid in lightly laid sheens
shimmering roses are red upon your fragrant rouge flesh
bathed in the scent of your own feminine nectar
exuded from red's intimate pores whose sugar is sweet
like cherries in baskets of you
violet and purple partners in shades hinted of blue
tinting the sheets of your satin's hues
subtly flowing over your feminine form
in the faintest of light between the red of your lips
and the blue on the tips
of your beautiful toes
one to the other
ends of your spectrums i intimately know
the touch and the thought of your afterglow
cover me with your red ruby roses,
your warmest of buds
caressed with your lavender violets shades' blue
let me not ever lose sight of you
freedom’s wind
you captured the wind in a jar
made it static air,
wind's flow no more
you feared she'd mess your pompadour
you took her in,
took what didn't belong to you
she became a flaccid shell
raggedy ann in your bed
wind blows as warm air meets 'n greets the cold atmosphere
you brought her in; she warmed your air
a barbie in your stead, plastic doll
pin up babe, blow up dame, hot mama
caged in your money shell
politics cast - spell
turned her into stale air,
her hell in a jar, with a lid,
in your shadow, kept her hid
your fish, big catch, fish bowl
warm air turns cold, exhausts itself without the sun
doldrums' layer, hanging suffocation
battered shattered blows
she's the living dead
your cold heart made hers stone,
barbie doll plastic
killer looks on the outside,
raggedy ann's insides,
your magazine cover
beneath your lust's covers
you captured the wind, stopped its flow
made it air, your aquarium there,
invisible, transparent,
an empty jar to see through,
to only you
"be seen, don't touch, don't speak,
don't . . . don't snap,
just let,"
your jet,
your homes,
your things yours
5th avenue pent up condo
no match,
inadequate ploy,
your toys,
i'm comin' in an' settin' her free
her hair will flow again in a howling wind
she'll spin you 'round,
an' blow you down
* * *
hot air meets cold front
you can expect a storm
* * *
she is the atmosphere;
the air that i breathe
fills my billows full
to gales' force ecstasy
unfurled love's banner,
lovely flows
she is the wind uplifted
ruffling waving,
chiffon fabric, her gown
sunlit kissed strands, golden hair
pearled skin, radiant
living doll on meadow's top
moving air's fluid flowing,
nature's wild flowers
blowing in the winds of freedom
she is mine again
valentine
have i told you lately that i love you?
i must have, i did
but not from the depths of my heart
until now,
plumbed from its deep beats
love about to be inscribed
for all eyes this writing beheld
my love for your tired smile
happy smile's rested face
doing planning, hardly static
cheerful heart unending giving,
planting planning escapades,
our time simple sundry, ever complex
together romantic
my love for your giving
cheerful heart at your best
despite your pain's piercing dogged drag
you overcome
your overwhelming love for family,
me and God written on your sleeve
my wife, sister,
bride forever friend,
my life
i don't want us to die,
but so it is, we must to live
would that it be,
on the sands of the sea
underneath the sun,
you beside me, holding close
touched our last kissed lips
breathe each other's air
warmth's last exchanged,
its end, goodbye together
passed into eternity
hot love
flirting mirth, your voice;
it kills
your radiant hair, auburn’s glow
in the naked sun of day
your glowing lips,
slender form smooth as silk
your sweet love walk,
away from, to the shore of shallows
pendulum shifts to and fro
mesmerizing sway, exotic ply
your full metered hips entrance,
i see,
i feel the heat, ecstatic want
you carry your love,
compartment folds
lovely baskets’ velvet holds
gold threads lined pubescent’s nest
come down to the water and draw
your scant clothing drop
in a heap
bathe for me its shimmered skin
magnified by your lovely hair
your dazzling sparkling eyes,
highlit by emerald green,
reflecting trees, bright gems in moss,
passion’s sparkling eyes for me,
draw me in with water’s veil
dripping slender soft, finger tips
stand there for a moment
fully enveloped in sunlight
your naked woman’s form
while only i and birds take notice
the cool or morning’s air will dry you slowly
as i follow the fullness of your every curve
soft sand beneath your feet,
blanket laid upon,
serves as your throne
lay prone thereon
with your basket open, laden
with your fruits’ sweet juice
that i will drink upon
your feminine neck,
pillared perfection,
its firm length, your woman’s beauty
enshrouded by your hair,
mystifies magnetically,
draws me into it
to press my lips to the tan of your skin
mottled by its thick copper strands,
locks of shimmering moist warming in the sun
lay back upon your gorgeous, God made form
let your auburn hair’s curls
fall across your smile, coy beguile
breasts of pearl, liquid golden tender orbs
pearled teeth exceeding fine
past the threshold of your lips
they must be met with mine!
now upon your belly of cinnamon brown
you turn and lay, you lie
twin mounds perfection smooth
upturned for me and sky
exposed full, soft spheres for play
intoxicating allurements
pronounced succulence,
strong soft arched, luscious incline
fulfillment’s promise
give me your angled side glance of love again
feigning timid and yearning to give you some
one to grasp and caress until it’s done
quell quietly your heat’s desire
and mine,
fiery want to spill on yours
two entwined under bare sky
naked in the sun by water’s shore line
only birds can see
and only one of two love’s union remains
enmeshed, enjoined consumed
in bodies’ embers afterglow,
release of loves fulfilled
garden Love
you invited me into your secret garden
to pass in only through your secret door
you had the hedges trimmed, the roses flowered
full petals’ blooms
on the foot paths you led
your french maid’s dress leading
your hips accentuating curves of the way
through the honeysuckle bush
that tickled sensuously my cheek
the honeybees buzzing in the sun
alighting their shadows
on the nectar fragrance of your auburn hair
the hummingbird wings breaks the air with flutter
your eyes’ light brightens these many delights
reflecting the sheen of the aqua blue sky
a patch coming through colors your eyes
with spring’s yellow white sun
my heart skips beats; it takes flight
when you proposed we lay on the moss velvet green
you lay there, your naked skin clean
pearled white orbs of your pupils eyes
highlight your pupils hazel; they check me out
as i check in, your feminine lines’ beauty
softly sketched upon my fiery libido
fanned into passion’s flames, warming
michelangelo’s fine sculpted flesh
you lie still, waiting
with mona lisa’s sultry smile drawing me
hot inside the secret parts
of your sweet garden
Who’s that lady?
she sat outside the car wash
on narrow concrete planter box rail
cool january morning mid day
bright sunshiny crisp clean air
people milling round
the lady’s probably 85ish
what they call elderly,
past cougar nomenclature
no matter to me, i’m waiting for my car to be washed
she’s waiting for hers, alone
except for her confidence
her movements which belie her apparent age
her manner of cool, yeah, even
sexy, glamour
the way she . . . her . . . physical . . . her demeanor
intriguing . . .
her hair white grey, grey white, coarse strands
short cut, cut short
combed with a feminine flair
i gauge that it stays put,
no matter the humidity, slight breeze
or her posture
she gazes about indiscreetly
reaches into her grey leather purse, digs a bit
grabs a cool pack that’s a silver lined
leather bound cigarette case
taps out a slim cigarette, can’t tell the brand
doesn’t matter because i’m intrigued
she’s got some kind of killer charisma
deftly lights it with a bejeweled,
probably rhinestone lighter
who cares, it may as well be diamonds
they would fit her
she’s not pretentious
i can tell, just by the vibes she exudes,
just sayin’
drags inward inhalation of tobacco
its scent, odor, . . . fragrance of it in this clean morning air
is pleasant, intoxicating in a sultry sense
makes me wanna ask her for a hit
or maybe even my own
or strike up a conversation and ask her
if she knew betty davis or maybe even doris day
instead i fixate as discreetly as i can on her bodily movements
she’s an elderly girl;
she’s a girl and i’m a girl watcher
she makes the younger ones look weak,
puts them to shame
i recall hearing the click of the cigarette lighter closed earlier
mesmerized by the sound as i look at her,
taking care not to stare
i look at her peripherally, but careful not to stare
i look at her, but not at her; i look at her clothing
her style, i feel her aura
i think maybe she knows i’m watching
a lady her age knows, feels, senses things like this
probably knows i’m looking, trying not to stare
her nails are long and natural
pretty sure positive they’re real
a hot red lacquer and they match her
wiry, thin, and spry frame
she’s sporting a trim fitting levi cut style jacket
a pastel yellow, almost creme hue
with green embroidered rose vines,
two or three roses run the length of her almost flat chest,
with pastel pink and bright pink centers
two pockets, left and right, with brown tan buttons
gold earrings drop and sparkle from her slightly large ears
they match the jacket’s color, though brighter
her sunglasses and blue jeans are a slim fit
for a slim chick
looking casually comfortable, loose but tight,
makes the oxymoron fit
it all goes with the immaculate white socks,
exposed from ankle to mid shin,
beige shoes, loafers with white thick laces
who is she? where’s she from? who’s her partner?
lover? husband? friend?
Alone?
she’s waiting for her car
just like me
hope it takes a while
she’s a classy lady,
her red fingernails come alive
they make a sudden flick
and jettison accumulated cigarette ash
she pulls out a cell phone,
pecks at it with a black pen stylus
her head’s tilted over, downward gaze at her phone
blood and gravity make her lower lip bulge a bit
she’s still cool; it goes with age,
skin tone or lack thereof,
connective tissue elasticity loss, y’know
it’ll happen to all of us,
love overlooks things like this
under that jacket is a white soft textured turtleneck blouse
her hands are thickly veined,
the right hand grasps the pen
tightly and steady, no shaking, no twitching
i just noticed a gold watch with a rope bracelet design
for a wrist band
the face of it is large, about the size of a half dollar
with jet black crisp characters,
its face is upturned, on the bottom of her wrist
she’s been pecking on her cellphone for 15 minutes now
and i don’t mind,
i’m wishing they don’t call out the owner of the lexus;
that would be me
i just wanna stare at her persona, demeanor
study her, . . . wish i could paint her with oil paints . . .
talk to her,
ask her about herself,
hear the tone of her voice,
is it high pitched, soft, low, or course,
like gravelly on account of her smoke
i won’t get to see her put the phone away
or pick up her belongings
or attend to her transactions . . .
and then they call out for the lexus’ owner
Dammit!
desert ride
he picked her up,
a hitch hiker in these days and times
outdated move given the times
so un-groovy, so far from the 60's
she didn't care,
she didn't keep up with current events
or trends, she just accepted the ride
after all she was into getting from
point A to B, important stuff
didn't care about fashion
or making a statement
no fragrant hair or painted lips
boarded the suv and kept him company
down the southern highway
headed for the new mexican desert town of sedona
but he had other ambitions
two thirds down the road and driving
making loose conversation
he pulled it over and told her to get out
which she did
he tried to pull out his gun but she cut it off
took control of his car
kicked him to the shoulder and shot him
in the groin severing a femoral artery
which stained the gravel red
she sped off
arrived in sedona 5 hours later
she got a job as a tour guide in the high desert
no one ever tracked the crime back to her
didn't matter anyway,
'cause we dear reader(s)
know he was the perpetrator
the dirt bag that tried to molest,
rape and then murder her
converted to a road kill
deprived the vultures' feast due to
a road crew that bagged the corpse
in the early morn'
and tossed it into their county garbage truck
lovely babe
How lovely are your eyes
how lovely your black mascara
your eyeliner eyebrows lovely black
how lovely
a universe contained within your pupils
star gates, infinite paths
leading to adventure, experience of dreams
expectation, hopes, loves,
so easy to forget life's struggles, downside and pain
looking in your lovely eyes
like a drug that relieves pain
and not to mention your lips
so curt, sexy and sweet
your cheeks, your face,
a masterpiece!
strands of your raven hair,
stands of silk paths connecting
to every part of your lovely body
to each nerve,
each of the nuances of your personality
the beauty of your wit and charm
so hard to describe
but its there
put together in a most wondrous fashion
rare form of a Woman
rolled script on the cusp of his tongue
his heart's last bell cracked to its toll’s rung
deaf ears preoccupied with low sun's orange glow
he is dumbfounded; stands there beside her
on horizon’s vast stretch, idyllic view
stretched to tautness
her eyelids so very beautiful,
no blemish she looks
her ivory face, cameo skin beguiles
golden lips dusted with its powder,
precious, harvested from the saddlebags
of honey bees in the alps of Switzerland
living there still untainted by nets of man
free of dregs of his dross stained hand
having pillaged every land
but her sweet skin still remains
her goddess flesh
no such one can ever sever
from her heart does pour milk
princes’s vialed myrrh
for his wild journeys far
though entranced temptresses lie in wait
entice his fate, so distant beyond
still threatens his frail mind’s hope
yet faith sure prevails over fate
without which no one can or ever lose
vanquished moment here,
so take her hand in full view,
dowry’s land, in midst of concrete jungle
but still rare in these times
Your princess walks graceful,
wondrous woman she is, devoid of ploy
no end to hers,
maiden virgin’s everlasting joy
Release, awake, little lad
mannish man, take love’s stand
cast aside jester’s toy, now succumb
to her reign of touch,
meld, one union joined pure, sweet
insomuch as you yearn and lust
her sweet pressing perfumed soft grasp
feminine form, pearly slender hand
your disheveled, lover’s stance will enhance her own
passion and pull of thrust
to guide your ruddy, blended form to hers
become as one, no matter circumstance
seize lover’s lass in the speckled noonday’s sun
her hair of sage, eyes creamy gaze of stag’s doe
fierce fragrant female form enraptures, envelopes
your core, weakness falls upon you
Magic, she is beyond the norm
she is the newly fallen scent of wild’s down
trees hemlock, unlock those lips hers
the boughs unlock, in their mist, shade
that key is you, for it she thirsts,
embrace take her there on your white steed
escape the drudgery of this twenty first
century’s ending days
in the remnant vestiges, glimpses’ streaks
of what is left of earthly light’s dimming
lose yourselves, remain pure,
before extinguished by artificial light
How lovely her jeweled feet in chamois sandals
handcrafted by the village sage
whose hands have guided this darling lass
since her inception borne of old,
he prepared for you
by her parents, though poor
not caged by standards of modernity, so called
they fared for you both, these final days
and you, the one she well claimed
O fortunate one!
there is no other way to say
worthy of her glance; her view
drink deeply, tomorrow your shell dies
you may cry in her lovely bosom
the one you kiss; you suckle
that match, her twin, her ivory chin
her breasts of milk,
fashioned of ivory silk
your stroke between your finger’s thumb
lovingly smooth,
she’s your only one
only yours for all eternity
Return to me
i wish that i could have loved you more
and now its too late, but alas,
again, again i shall not see you again,
the wretched truth assaults me to my face
high above the laurel’s leaves
our short time below
your spirit’s memory floats,
pigeons soft sound,
coos of your sweet memory
but flesh cannot touch spirit
because i miss you that much,
my soul stretches to reach,
to tear away from my body,
too late, to have held your hand
vague memory, too many years ago
once you were harsh to me
just out of spite
but then you covered me from the cold
with your bosom’s shawl,
i followed with you round the bend
like the fool i let myself be led
when i didn’t even deserve a goodbye
you disappeared; you never came back
you gave me no chance to say goodbye
in your eyes always distant plans,
always so far away
you wouldn’t share,
like on a mission
known to no one, only you
you allowed me your company
your love for me seemed
only for compassion’s sake
who could ever tame your beauty’s will
you let yourself be taken before your time
quite unfair to me,
you touched, you kissed
you gently endured,
but your mind
was always on distant plans
you captured me then offered no escape
though you knew i could not rest
in pursuing you, yet in vain
i suffered, you allowed me your company
you and i knew no one could ever catch you
i could not keep up with you
a million melodies will not erase
the love i have for you
for you my love, my heart
it wails, it sings, loud and pure
for you my love, my heart i give
honeysuckle sweet, candy apple lullabies,
poured over, touching my lips
as i fondly think of you
i softly now whisper your name
as the sun touches the western rim
toward its flat lonely, empty plain i look
i’ll not see you there again
it hurts to say, “i wish i’d never met you,”
but this lie only fills me with self disdain
and i will not yield to a coward’s end
better to suffer without you
than to never have met you
oh, to taste your breath
the nectar of your mouth,
only the rose bushes and sparrows hear me cry
as i softly whisper your name again
but they are no solace;
they will die and reappear again, and again
but you my love, are gone forever!