Drakes

We strolled the beach

touching our unsaid thoughts.

Our lives

rolling into the sea

and

returning with the next wave.

Each other,

telling stories with our eyes,

joyous tears

and a whisper of love,

together once again

celebrating

for a moment in time.

Biking in the Wilderness

We met again biking in the wilderness,

your beautiful ageless eyes still causes me much distress.

You were open and cheerful, yet guarded and coy

this long lost love still brings me so much haunting joy.

Up and down country lanes we rode,

through meadows, a back yard and by an antique house.

You stopped to look at me, your smile explodes

this long lost love, excites my temporal lobes.

We walked our bikes through a low lying meadow

listening to our hearts talking to each other,

wildly remembering, craving,

sadly hearing that endless echo;

a haunted phrase that still bewilders today-

something is missing.

I woke up as we were kissing

and left abruptly

with my bike.

2 O'Clock Stroll

Catch the mist from a crashing wave

feeling droplets rolling down your hand.

Can you smell the salt air in the nearby sea cave?

as you slowly sift through the sand.

Are you touched by the sunlit sky

as clouds float softly by.

Can you see the ocean boiling

as you feel heartache cry,

slowly walking the beach toiling

catching the mist in your open hand. 

Amontillado

White lilies

surround the edge of a clear lake.

Soft breezes

creates your image.

An anorexic oak

shadowing the shore;

Birds singing their spring vespers.

A lonely bagpipe

emerging form the brush,

a haunting tune -

lake turns to glass;

cracks from slow swimming fish

Outline emerges from the mist

weather changes.

Hollow;

thoughts pervasive,

where is Amontillado?

X

A mountain climber

soaring upward towards

the snow capped clouds.

Breaths short, clear

weaving in and out through

pines and birch

etching his way tediously,

slowly,

perfectly painting his way.

Flickers of sunlight,

birds flying freely

gliding beyond his reach

avoiding all man's habits.

Night befall and climber

sleeps beneath a living tree.

Wolves

cry matefully into the night, and

dew drops sprinkling his

sandy balding hair.

Again besieged by the top,

so clear

in the new day.

Finally climber ascends to the top

and without falter

finds his dream

top.........free and fresh

Love Litter

I left your sandals in the snow,

hoping winter and time would let things go.

Your eyes send messages...

icons of hope.

You words are discernable, but not very clear.

Love litter, scorching the edges of despair.

Seedling

I touched a seedling uncovered by time,

watched it grow in my damp palms.

I saw the suns affection nestle

up to its little buds

and

watched it bloom before my eyes.

It stood tall among its many relatives,

caressing its nurtured petals

laughing at its reflection on

a shimmering pond.