As the flames in flamenco dance
Show off their vibrant hues
Of tangerine and cinnabar
I notice, not a note of various blues
...
He showed me to a room
With dimmed lights and
Soft, soulful music.
It was appropriate.
...
Along the dark shore where the waves roll wild
And the wind roams where it will,
The soul fills with flaming passion
While the stars stand shocked and still.
...
MAGGIE'S SHOES.
They were made of the softest leather,
Flat with crepe soles;
...
He's standing at the window; bird watching.
His shoulders drooping, his back bent;
The dark hair now grey and thinning,
His youthful energy spent.
...
As one door, not quite closed yet
Another's door key is turning.
Her hours of winter are on the wane,
Her soul, for peace, is yearning.
...
THEIR STORY
They spring up like mushrooms
From the hole that shares no warmth.
...
He digs from dawn to dusk
One foot and then the other
Hips with Swiss movement
And a twenty year guarantee
...
She's a walking book.
Free to read.
Who will never know dust
Nor a rigid shelf.
...
You have seasoned my heart with summer spice
Brought on the air from paradise
Clothed me in fall's sacred shades
To wrap around like scented glades
...
I till the furrows of the page
By hand; the thought machine
On overdrive, so till I must,
If I'm to sleep serene.
...
Ah! You thought me that sort too,
To cry, "How could you forget me? "
To wail and sob like a mad woman
Then throw myself under your Harley-D
...
As the clock struck the half hour
A whisper was heard in the silence deep
To the man, "Why did you forsake me? "
But to the mother, "I love you, do not weep."
...
February Day In Saissac
You don't see the dense mist coming down.
It creeps like a spy on cushioned feet.
...
The fly, the fly; with his quick flashing eye,
Didst give me a run for my money.
As I sat in the sun with my coated bread bun
He ran, all over my honey.
...
He, a miner of kimberlite
Devoted lover of rocks;
A devourer of material mixtures.
...
Such images dance in splurging hues
On sheets of silken white delight
A million souls in pastel shades
A million souls in blackest night
...
Petals on a table
Deep crimson and cream
A passing a recall
Back to a dream
...
(Or, more aptly named, The Mile High Club.)
I see fun in the air for a little queen bee,
...
As The Flame...
As the flames in flamenco dance
Show off their vibrant hues
Of tangerine and cinnabar
I notice, not a note of various blues
And as the eye fixes on the flame
The mind drifts back to summer skies
To golden sands and sun kissed bodies
Content, relaxed, with smiling sighs
But now the ashes fall; another thought,
That moves me on to lusty autumn
In all her finery; and once again
The flamenco beats to the expected drum
Of the wind; that will have its way,
Lightly at first, playing with the sun
Then to gasp with mighty zest
To strip bare, nature's beauty just for fun
The embers now have lost their glow;
The dance is spent, the coals are dead
And I, must away and trod the stair
At this late hour to my bed
But happy it is, this humble soul
Who cannot wait for dawn to come
For spring arrived at my door today
admired by many and adored by some.
5/3/2015
Whether it be Stormy oceans whipped to foams Or creaking words from ancient tomes You'll find they are contained within This srreaming poets flowing poems! Here is a poet I love to read and who deserves to he read!