roses are red, violets are blue

upon your lavender bed

your silken sheets follow your curves

rounded an' smooth like ivory's sheen

sculpted by Michelangelo's own spirit descended

from heaven to bring me your scent of flower's love shade

to warm my libido with the luscious flow

of your auburn hair, liquid in lightly laid sheens

shimmering roses are red upon your fragrant rouge flesh

bathed in the scent of your own feminine nectar

exuded from red's intimate pores whose sugar is sweet

like cherries in baskets of you

violet and purple partners in shades hinted of blue

tinting the sheets of your satin's hues

subtly flowing over your feminine form

in the faintest of light between the red of your lips

and the blue on the tips

of your beautiful toes

one to the other

ends of your spectrums i intimately know

the touch and the thought of your afterglow

cover me with your red ruby roses,

your warmest of buds

caressed with your lavender violets shades' blue

let me not ever lose sight of you

you captured the wind in a jar

made it static air,

wind's flow no more

you feared she'd mess your pompadour

you took her in,

took what didn't belong to you

she became a flaccid shell

raggedy ann in your bed

wind blows as warm air meets 'n greets the cold atmosphere

you brought her in; she warmed your air

a barbie in your stead, plastic doll

pin up babe, blow up dame, hot mama

caged in your money shell

politics cast - spell

turned her into stale air,

her hell in a jar, with a lid,

in your shadow, kept her hid

your fish, big catch, fish bowl

warm air turns cold, exhausts itself without the sun

doldrums' layer, hanging suffocation

battered shattered blows

she's the living dead

your cold heart made hers stone, 

barbie doll plastic

killer looks on the outside, 

raggedy ann's insides,

your magazine cover

beneath your lust's covers

you captured the wind, stopped its flow

made it air, your aquarium there,

invisible, transparent,

an empty jar to see through, 

to only you

"be seen, don't touch, don't speak,

don't . . . don't snap,

just let,"

your jet,

your homes,

your things yours

5th avenue pent up condo

no match,

inadequate ploy,

your toys,

i'm comin' in an' settin' her free

her hair will flow again in a howling wind

she'll spin you 'round,

an' blow you down

* * *

hot air meets cold front

you can expect a storm

* * *

she is the atmosphere; 

the air that i breathe

fills my billows full

to gales' force ecstasy

unfurled love's banner, 

lovely flows

she is the wind uplifted

ruffling waving, 

chiffon fabric, her gown

sunlit kissed strands, golden hair

pearled skin, radiant 

living doll on meadow's top

moving air's fluid flowing, 

nature's wild flowers 

blowing in the winds of freedom

she is mine again

have i told you lately that i love you?

i must have, i did 

but not from the depths of my heart

until now, 

plumbed from its deep beats

love about to be inscribed

for all eyes this writing beheld

my love for your tired smile 

happy smile's rested face

doing planning, hardly static

cheerful heart unending giving, 

planting planning escapades, 

our time simple sundry, ever complex 

together romantic

my love for your giving 

cheerful heart at your best

despite your pain's piercing dogged drag

you overcome 

your overwhelming love for family, 

me and God written on your sleeve

my wife, sister, 

bride forever friend,

my life

i don't want us to die,

but so it is, we must to live

would that it be,

on the sands of the sea

underneath the sun, 

you beside me, holding close

touched our last kissed lips 

breathe each other's air

warmth's last exchanged, 

its end, goodbye together 

passed into eternity

flirting mirth, your voice; 

it kills

your radiant hair, auburn’s glow

in the naked sun of day

your glowing lips,

slender form smooth as silk

your sweet love walk, 

away from, to the shore of shallows

pendulum shifts to and fro

mesmerizing sway, exotic ply

your full metered hips entrance, 

i see, 

i feel the heat, ecstatic want 

you carry your love, 

compartment folds

lovely baskets’ velvet holds

gold threads lined pubescent’s nest

come down to the water and draw

your scant clothing drop 

in a heap

bathe for me its shimmered skin

magnified by your lovely hair 

your dazzling sparkling eyes, 

highlit by emerald green,

reflecting trees, bright gems in moss, 

passion’s sparkling eyes for me, 

draw me in with water’s veil 

dripping slender soft, finger tips

stand there for a moment

fully enveloped in sunlight

your naked woman’s form

while only i and birds take notice

the cool or morning’s air will dry you slowly

as i follow the fullness of your every curve

soft sand beneath your feet, 

blanket laid upon, 

serves as your throne

lay prone thereon 

with your basket open, laden

with your fruits’ sweet juice 

that i will drink upon

your feminine neck,

pillared perfection,

its firm length, your woman’s beauty

enshrouded by your hair,

mystifies magnetically, 

draws me into it

to press my lips to the tan of your skin

mottled by its thick copper strands,

locks of shimmering moist warming in the sun

lay back upon your gorgeous, God made form

let your auburn hair’s curls 

fall across your smile, coy beguile

breasts of pearl, liquid golden tender orbs

pearled teeth exceeding fine

past the threshold of your lips

they must be met with mine!

now upon your belly of cinnamon brown

you turn and lay, you lie 

twin mounds perfection smooth 

upturned for me and sky

exposed full, soft spheres for play

intoxicating allurements

pronounced succulence, 

strong soft arched, luscious incline

fulfillment’s promise

give me your angled side glance of love again

feigning timid and yearning to give you some

one to grasp and caress until it’s done

quell quietly your heat’s desire

and mine, 

fiery want to spill on yours

two entwined under bare sky

naked in the sun by water’s shore line

only birds can see

and only one of two love’s union remains 

enmeshed, enjoined consumed 

in bodies’ embers afterglow,

release of loves fulfilled

you invited me into your secret garden

to pass in only through your secret door

you had the hedges trimmed, the roses flowered

full petals’ blooms

on the foot paths you led

your french maid’s dress leading

your hips accentuating curves of the way

through the honeysuckle bush

that tickled sensuously my cheek

the honeybees buzzing in the sun

alighting their shadows 

on the nectar fragrance of your auburn hair

the hummingbird wings breaks the air with flutter

your eyes’ light brightens these many delights

reflecting the sheen of the aqua blue sky

a patch coming through colors your eyes

with spring’s yellow white sun

my heart skips beats; it takes flight

when you proposed we lay on the moss velvet green

you lay there, your naked skin clean

pearled white orbs of your pupils eyes

highlight your pupils hazel; they check me out

as i check in, your feminine lines’ beauty

softly sketched upon my fiery libido

fanned into passion’s flames, warming

michelangelo’s fine sculpted flesh

you lie still, waiting

with mona lisa’s sultry smile drawing me 

hot inside the secret parts

of your sweet garden

she sat outside the car wash

on narrow concrete planter box rail

cool january morning mid day

bright sunshiny crisp clean air

people milling round

the lady’s probably 85ish

what they call elderly, 

past cougar nomenclature

no matter to me, i’m waiting for my car to be washed

she’s waiting for hers, alone

except for her confidence

her movements which belie her apparent age

her manner of cool, yeah, even 

sexy, glamour 

the way she . . . her . . . physical . . . her demeanor

intriguing . . . 

her hair white grey, grey white, coarse strands

short cut, cut short 

combed with a feminine flair 

i gauge that it stays put, 

no matter the humidity, slight breeze

or her posture

she gazes about indiscreetly 

reaches into her grey leather purse, digs a bit

grabs a cool pack that’s a silver lined 

leather bound cigarette case

taps out a slim cigarette, can’t tell the brand

doesn’t matter because i’m intrigued

she’s got some kind of killer charisma

deftly lights it with a bejeweled, 

probably rhinestone lighter

who cares, it may as well be diamonds

they would fit her

she’s not pretentious

i can tell, just by the vibes she exudes,

just sayin’ 

drags inward inhalation of tobacco

its scent, odor, . . . fragrance of it in this clean morning air

is pleasant, intoxicating in a sultry sense

makes me wanna ask her for a hit

or maybe even my own

or strike up a conversation and ask her

if she knew betty davis or maybe even doris day

instead i fixate as discreetly as i can on her bodily movements

she’s an elderly girl; 

she’s a girl and i’m a girl watcher 

she makes the younger ones look weak, 

puts them to shame

i recall hearing the click of the cigarette lighter closed earlier

mesmerized by the sound as i look at her,

taking care not to stare

i look at her peripherally, but careful not to stare

i look at her, but not at her; i look at her clothing

her style, i feel her aura

i think maybe she knows i’m watching

a lady her age knows, feels, senses things like this

probably knows i’m looking, trying not to stare

her nails are long and natural

pretty sure positive they’re real

a hot red lacquer and they match her  

wiry, thin, and spry frame

she’s sporting a trim fitting levi cut style jacket 

a pastel yellow, almost creme hue

with green embroidered rose vines,

two or three roses run the length of her almost flat chest,

with pastel pink and bright pink centers

two pockets, left and right, with brown tan buttons

gold earrings drop and sparkle from her slightly large ears

they match the jacket’s color, though brighter

her sunglasses and blue jeans are a slim fit

for a slim chick

looking casually comfortable, loose but tight,

makes the oxymoron fit

it all goes with the immaculate white socks, 

exposed from ankle to mid shin,

beige shoes, loafers with white thick laces

who is she? where’s she from? who’s her partner?

lover? husband? friend?

Alone?

she’s waiting for her car

just like me

hope it takes a while

she’s a classy lady,

her red fingernails come alive 

they make a sudden flick 

and jettison accumulated cigarette ash 

she pulls out a cell phone,

pecks at it with a black pen stylus

her head’s tilted over, downward gaze at her phone 

blood and gravity make her lower lip bulge a bit

she’s still cool; it goes with age, 

skin tone or lack thereof, 

connective tissue elasticity loss, y’know

it’ll happen to all of us,

love overlooks things like this

under that jacket is a white soft textured turtleneck blouse

her hands are thickly veined,

the right hand grasps the pen 

tightly and steady, no shaking, no twitching

i just noticed a gold watch with a rope bracelet design

for a wrist band

the face of it is large, about the size of a half dollar

with jet black crisp characters,

its face is upturned, on the bottom of her wrist

she’s been pecking on her cellphone for 15 minutes now

and i don’t mind,

i’m wishing they don’t call out the owner of the lexus;

that would be me

i just wanna stare at her persona, demeanor

study her,  . . . wish i could paint her with oil paints . . .

talk to her, 

ask her about herself, 

hear the tone of her voice, 

is it high pitched, soft, low, or course, 

like gravelly on account of her smoke

i won’t get to see her put the phone away 

or pick up her belongings 

or attend to her transactions . . .

and then they call out for the lexus’ owner 

Dammit!

he picked her up, 

a hitch hiker in these days and times

outdated move given the times

so un-groovy, so far from the 60's

she didn't care, 

she didn't keep up with current events

or trends, she just accepted the ride

after all she was into getting from 

point A to B, important stuff

didn't care about fashion

or making a statement

no fragrant hair or painted lips

boarded the suv and kept him company 

down the southern highway

headed for the new mexican desert town of sedona

but he had other ambitions

two thirds down the road and driving

making loose conversation 

he pulled it over and told her to get out

which she did

he tried to pull out his gun but she cut it off

took control of his car

kicked him to the shoulder and shot him

in the groin severing a femoral artery

which stained the gravel red

she sped off

arrived in sedona 5 hours later

she got a job as a tour guide in the high desert

no one ever tracked the crime back to her

didn't matter anyway, 

'cause we dear reader(s) 

know he was the perpetrator

the dirt bag that tried to molest, 

rape and then murder her 

converted to a road kill 

deprived the vultures' feast due to

a road crew that bagged the corpse

in the early morn'

and tossed it into their county garbage truck

How lovely are your eyes

how lovely your  black mascara

your eyeliner eyebrows lovely black

how lovely

a universe contained within your pupils

star gates, infinite paths 

leading to adventure, experience of dreams 

expectation, hopes, loves, 

so easy to forget life's struggles, downside and pain

looking in your lovely eyes

like a drug that relieves pain

and not to mention your lips 

so curt, sexy and sweet

your cheeks, your face,

a masterpiece!

strands of your raven hair,

stands of silk paths connecting 

to every part of your lovely body

to each nerve, 

each of the nuances of your personality

the beauty of your wit and charm 

so hard to describe

but its there

put together in a most wondrous fashion

rolled script on the cusp of his tongue

his heart's last bell cracked to its toll’s rung

deaf ears preoccupied with low sun's orange glow

he is dumbfounded; stands there beside her

on horizon’s vast stretch, idyllic view

stretched to tautness

her eyelids so very beautiful, 

no blemish she looks

her ivory face, cameo skin beguiles

golden lips dusted with its powder,

precious, harvested from the saddlebags

of honey bees in the alps of Switzerland

living there still untainted by nets of man

free of dregs of his dross stained hand

having pillaged every land

but her sweet skin still remains

her goddess flesh

no such one can ever sever

from her heart does pour milk

princes’s vialed myrrh

for his wild journeys far

though entranced temptresses lie in wait

entice his fate, so distant beyond 

still threatens his frail mind’s hope

yet faith sure prevails over fate

without which no one can or ever lose

vanquished moment here, 

so take her hand in full view,

dowry’s land, in midst of concrete jungle

but still rare in these times

Your princess walks graceful, 

wondrous woman she is, devoid of ploy

no end to hers, 

maiden virgin’s everlasting joy

Release, awake, little lad

mannish man, take love’s stand

cast aside jester’s toy, now succumb

to her reign of touch,

meld, one union joined pure, sweet

insomuch as you yearn and lust

her sweet pressing perfumed soft grasp

feminine form, pearly slender hand

your disheveled, lover’s stance will enhance her own

passion and pull of thrust

to guide your ruddy, blended form to hers

become as one, no matter circumstance

seize lover’s lass in the speckled noonday’s sun

her hair of sage, eyes creamy gaze of stag’s doe

fierce fragrant female form enraptures, envelopes 

your core, weakness falls upon you

Magic, she is beyond the norm

she is the newly fallen scent of wild’s down

trees hemlock, unlock those lips hers 

the boughs unlock, in their mist, shade

that key is you, for it she thirsts, 

embrace take her there on your white steed

escape the drudgery of this twenty first 

century’s ending days 

in the remnant vestiges, glimpses’ streaks 

of what is left of earthly light’s dimming

lose yourselves, remain pure, 

before extinguished by artificial light

How lovely her jeweled feet in chamois sandals

handcrafted by the village sage

whose hands have guided this darling lass 

since her inception borne of old, 

he prepared for you 

by her parents, though poor

not caged by standards of modernity, so called 

they fared for you both, these final days 

and you, the one she well claimed

O fortunate one!

there is no other way to say

worthy of her glance; her view

drink deeply, tomorrow your shell dies

you may cry in her lovely bosom 

the one you kiss; you suckle

that match, her twin, her ivory chin

her breasts of milk,

fashioned of ivory silk 

your stroke between your finger’s thumb

lovingly smooth, 

she’s your only one

only yours for all eternity

i wish that i could have loved you more

and now its too late, but alas,

again, again i shall not see you again,

the wretched truth assaults me to my face

high above the laurel’s leaves

our short time below

your spirit’s memory floats,

pigeons soft sound,

coos of your sweet memory

but flesh cannot touch spirit

because i miss you that much,

my soul stretches to reach,

to tear away from my body,

too late, to have held your hand

vague memory, too many years ago

once you were harsh to me

just out of spite

but then you covered me from the cold

with your bosom’s shawl,

i followed with you round the bend

like the fool i let myself be led

when i didn’t even deserve a goodbye

you disappeared; you never came back

you gave me no chance to say goodbye

in your eyes always distant plans,

always so far away

you wouldn’t share,

like on a mission

known to no one, only you

you allowed me your company

your love for me seemed

only for compassion’s sake

who could ever tame your beauty’s will

you let yourself be taken before your time

quite unfair to me,

you touched, you kissed

you gently endured,

but your mind

was always on distant plans

you captured me then offered no escape

though you knew i could not rest

in pursuing you, yet in vain

i suffered, you allowed me your company

you and i knew no one could ever catch you

i could not keep up with you

a million melodies will not erase

the love i have for you

for you my love, my heart

it wails, it sings, loud and pure

for you my love, my heart i give

honeysuckle sweet, candy apple lullabies,

poured over, touching my lips

as i fondly think of you

i softly now whisper your name

as the sun touches the western rim

toward its flat lonely, empty plain i look

i’ll not see you there again

it hurts to say, “i wish i’d never met you,”

but this lie only fills me with self disdain

and i will not yield to a coward’s end

better to suffer without you

than to never have met you

oh, to taste your breath

the nectar of your mouth,

only the rose bushes and sparrows hear me cry

as i softly whisper your name again

but they are no solace;

they will die and reappear again, and again

but you my love, are gone forever!