love came to me
in quiet
   gently
and found me
unaware of

how
   over the table
   of a conference lunch
I must have taken
to your ways

how
   sitting next to you
   in drowsy silence
   on the bus that took us
   to some wind-blown ruins
   of antiquity
your presence was
like that of a close friend
with whom I shared
a silence comfortably safe
knowing
no words were needed

only when
   on that merry evening
you looked
and moved
like happiness incarnate
and put your hand
spontaneously?
upon my knee
I recognized

how
   much
I wanted
   you

      * *

Angel wings around me.
Feathers in my face.
Pillow the size of Jupiter.
Sheets of silken seas on surfaces of
Worlds yet undiscovered.
I sleep loved.

Up North, by the Russian border,
It gets so cold your breath
Freezes and floats to your
Feet in a fountain of
Sparkling microsmithereens.

Sibirians call it
Whispering Stars.
I swear on my name it's a
Sight beyond description, with

Northern Lights coiling like
Mating snakes
On a sky so full of moon and
Stars it's almost alien

Above you.
Easiest peace.
The sound of Gods
Meditating.

Silence itself opens its
Quiet eyes and looks into yours
Like a living abyss you look down,  
Looking back.

The purest of Existence's
Everythings.
The now cry in
Snow Crystals.

Zen in

Frozen.

Eyes of gods upon my
Every move.

I have nothing to hide. Such
Sweet freedom to

Stand for your every sin and
Uncencored secret.  

Back straight, and perfectly
Human.

A daily tradition , toasted pumpernickel bread and black coffee ...
From my favorite view , looking South across the front yard , on a Maple rocker . My rightful place I wonder ? What gifts will today bring ? What role will I play and when ? Time is precious one day , painful the next ! Mornings filled with peace , contentment . Afternoons with fear , resentment ..Clocks are quite loud when alone ! My chair vibrates across the wooden floor , echoing down the hallway . A picturesque morning , Pileated woodpecker , familiar call of Bobwhite Quail . Looking for me ? I'm unable to meet anyone today ! The child is afraid to come out and play .. Maybe tomorrow or the next ! Sometime this Fall if able , Thanksgiving , Christmas or wait until Spring ! I never know what the next day might bring ! Pull venetian blinds closed , finish my cup of coffee , commit my morning to prose , music and song ? What does it take to belong ?

To be in the top of that familiar old tree , throwing apples down for my friends to eat !  Gathering her yield for Dad's fried pies , ammo of choice for crabapple fights ! Lip smacking best jelly you've ever eaten , warm milk with applesauce when we couldn't get to sleep ...A quick snack while mowing the yard , cornbread , sweet tea and apple butter !

Roll out the crust and lightly cover it with brown sugar. Cut up the peaches and add some cinnamon. Place the filling into the center and cover over with the hand rolled crust. Dust lightly with sugar and put into an oven at a decent heat. Sit back with a cup of hot tea and watch the magic take place. Smell the air until you smell the fragrance of paradise. Look at the crust to make sure it is crispy and golden brown. Turn off the oven, then open a window and place the pie to cool. Fix a *** of coffee and wait for family and neighbors to come around. Cut the pie into slices and serve it up with love. Watch how folks come together and laugh with sparkles in their eyes. This is how you make and enjoy a Georgia Peach Pie.

In a grey foggy mist with showers pouring down, I hold your hands and we dance without music. The thundering droplets soak us to the bone, but this is how we met many years ago. We were both caught in the nightmare of a cold winter rain. A storm so fierce that we thought the world was coming an end. Instead of finding death, we found each others arms. Our warmth pushed away the cold as we became entwined in each others embrace. Now so many years have passed since the cold rain day and when ever we steal a chance, we come out and dance in what brought us together, loving each other in the rain.

Petals as dark as midnight, with black lace and red satin in her dress. Eyes like dark pools of water and lips like a red sunset. Skin like polished brass and as soft as a spring sea breeze, a Spanish maiden dances on the plaza to music that trumpets her beauty. Moving like a graceful reed in the wind, she bends and turns with twist and twirls. Her feet tap out a rhythm that sounds like a lovers heart beating at her coming. She carries a fragrance of a Olive grove or fine Spanish wine, subtle but filled with strength. She dazzles and mystifies as she dances to whats in her heart. A passion so deep that it rolls over you like the ocean waves. What a beauty this Spanish Rose, a flower of the Mediterranean.

My relation with her
inhabits a silent space,

you don't need to talk much
below the ocean's surface,

it's like a rest after your work is done
an earned breather after a long run.

Now it's holding hands and swimming together
having seen all the weather.