And the dinghy creeps down-river,

on-top a water quilt sewn of golden, velvet green,

creasing as it hugs nut wooden edges.

The weeping willow hails the procession.



Poem XXI

When around me all becomes
When the lights flash
Colours more sickeningly
The pace picks up, movements
I long to be spirited away
by some divine wind,
only to find myself
upon thy breast,
exchanging soft whispers..
Ah till then…A test!

”By Their Faces Shall You Know Them” Poem

Train the eye of your heart

to tell goodness from evil apart.

Life’s great gulf becomes quite clear

in looking upon faces without fear.

For in an instant something in you will rise,

decidedly will the heart then trust or despise.

One must take upon oneself this mystical task

lest one fail to foreshadow the cries…

To Those who would bid me wait

If I were to in my dream-like
passions cease,
By measure would hapless gloom
steadily increase!

Were I to hurl a stone
into a lake,
a swan would take flight and the
calm break.

As with love, when dawn is
faithfully born,
One doubts its not, nor dare
stay forlorn!

Whether with her I part ways or
hold hands,
is up to the Shifter of life’s
shifting sands,

There’s a mystery to the heart’s
beat & swell,
A flame lit therein one
cannot quell…

In hushed supplication I ask
for a sign,
that implied blessing, for my lips on hers,
hers on mine.

Poem written 3/12/15

The air hanging over this sub-urban demense

is a sculpted stillness,

with all the ineluctable elegance

of an elaborate, porcelain vase.

Surveying a foreground of indistinct homes,

stretching in rows,

my sight is drawn by some strange magnetism

to an emanating horizon of evergreen trees

which in their stately mystique offer comfort

and stir great wonders within.

Libations pour forth from lips

as dark, distant boughs offer their own,

towards heaven,