James McLain Poems

On journeys back looking up counting stars.
If close is to close,
and the rocky out crops is close to the root of the tree.
Stay only close very close to the edge.
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Mysterious,
brown is covered with your veil.
Splendid the dream,
which with is within passion.
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The rocks slapping against the face of your moon.
The ring when it stretches is mind humbling, numbing.
The sun hence for gotten as it streams across the face.
Woman girl whichever to often this the Nuns behavior?
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Unlike lingerie that’s strictly for fantasy,
Look beneath at the Secrets.
Lace faces have Faux Vintage.
French lingerie that captures feminine.
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Jewls and If you look at your red eye once more,
as have I have known the proper glance
it moves to some high rank.
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Behold, thou art fair, my lover as the doves
beheld, art thou so fair, amongst the fair.

Green, yellow gold the shadow hast doves' fairest eyes.
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Under the apple tree she sits,
watching him paint the barn.
From her advantage he is not
but still the sun,
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Bending over,
picking blueberries.
Looking up is the sky.
Full when the moon,
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It Can Never Change
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