Let us go, now, you and I,
to where we've never been, to foreign lands,
revived, a renaissance, together, hand in hand;
...
Art of loving
is art of you
loving songs
sung from the heart
...
Statuesque
quaint roses, daily calls
love notes, sly looks
bright eyes, flashing lashes
...
When first I lost my sight,
my universe went dark obscure
blackest pitch of night
lit by dim memories
...
O, Quercus tall thy spreading crown endowed
thine oaken leaves an aesculean
tribute to thy Herculean strength
more powerful than all thy cousins
...
Chameleon on green rustic fields ye lie
unplanted rosette by young hands that pluck
away thy priestly crown, from orient grown,
gold tiara gracing thy perennial brow.
...
Your stillness still belies existence
camouflaged by grasses brown and green
red fallen leaves wherein withal you hide between
unmoving but your hundred eyes
...
First Murder
The fruits of Cain on earth
proved fruitless as an offering:
...
You left wordlessly
anonymous cloak
absorbing you
into its silent creases
...
Hair done up precisely, bouncing timely
musical metronome four/four time
to baton wielded by his check card -
nails hardened, colored, shaped, and sharp
...