Life wears me out with
its twists and turns
and hairpin curves.
I keep waiting for a long
peaceful stretch of
highway, bathed in
the rising sun;
a golden wheat field
to the left, a moss covered
pond with dragonflies to
the right.

The road turns to
gravel and rapidly
climbs uphill.
There are signs along
the way that promise
the world.
The road becomes narrow,
turns to dirt,
and ultimately disappears.

~
Here is an assertion
and showiness
in the expanse
of white skin – from her
high forehead,
down her graceful neck,
shoulders, and arms.
Although the black
of her dress is bold,
it is also deep, recessive,
and mysterious.

He stalks her
as one does a deer,
his palette composed of
lead white, rose madder,
vermilion, viridian,
and bone black.
A dash of light rose
over the former
gloomy background,
you see, and
the élancée figure
shows to much
greater advantage.

Her body boldly
faces forward while
her head is turned in profile.
A profile of both
assertion and retreat.
The table provides support,
and echoes her
curves and stance.
One strap of her gown
has fallen down
her right shoulder,
suggesting the possibility
of further revelation;
one more struggle
and the lady will be free.

Everything converges to
imply a distant sexuality
under the professional
control of the sitter,
rather than offered for
the viewer's delectation.
Her untamed wilderness
remains unseen.
~

diagonally
wet lines slice the dry summer
storm rages; sun rests

The stars winked ,
The moon gave a cheeky smile,
When the shy young couple kissed for the first time.
4/8/2021

In the summer night, below the sunshine,
I met you darling, here, and all of your friends.

And like you're golden earring, you became my energy
the whisper to my night, the sparkle in the ocean deep.
And when we waited for the morning song of the sunlight,
from this time on, you became a part of Romania to me.

For below the skylit ocean, in Varme Vece
between the purple, red, and blue stars, and you.
In all the colors of the blue, I want you to
Remember America golden skies when I leave.

So in the "Glo"of the clubs, or light and fame
of another day when you lead in therapy,
and when you restore the might of the weak,
Or between the wine and dine, and good games,

in the same way, my dear, you know you can find meaning
From these summer nights or darker days -
from a broken heart, you also can be mended - you do know.  

So when you struggle and trying to find the words to say,
When you yourself feel lower than the ocean sand,
you can trace these memories, and search for my hands,
and fall in line and feel warm and safe in these summer days.

When the
naked branches
blew in
the late
autumn winds,
our love died.
How I long
for the days
of spring,
when all was
alive with
newness.
We lay beneath
the willow tree
and dined on wine,
bread and love.
God,
how I miss you.