the acts of the birds

they perch on our ears

stay with us for some time

they leave without a chirp

it breaks my heart

give me a signal

something to hold onto

i loved you once too

turn my hedges

stash my clothes

drink my weariness

your duty is not done

wave to me when you go away

i will wave to you

touch my pinky finger

never cross it

written listening to “dress up in you” and “i suppose that was a prayer”

THE WIDE BLUE YONDER

a driven blade into the hearts of the softening,

tongues stretching to taste the pall

disrupts a seclusion from accord.

bow and sing and smirk and wave,

there is no happier time than the blue hour;

taste the pie upon lips of hippo blessed wealth;

the possibility of something remarkable lies still,

lest you spark it! light it!

flames will tenderly caress your minds,

and thoughts with flattering will coax you:

live, live and die – but live first, and survive.

flourish, frisk, flutter, beside this frolic sky,

the wide blue yonder will take you, love you –

perhaps you will see Him.

Carvers and Hulahoops

she says hey no laughing

but she feels them quickly carving

little words onto the backs

of chairs that tread on seas black

gold and silver white trees

are dancing in their eyes and then she sees

the deepness of their feelings

and the softness of their concealing

their coats are fur and ragged teens

are seething in their collars

who are these beings

who are they? who are they?

she asks and asks again

but no one answers

no one can

she tries to speak but then her throat

it’s caught it’s hoarse her voice is but an empty threat

the stars upon the brows of those

she once only lived in terror of

were shining now with hulahoops

of brand-new hope and daydream

there was hope still yet in her own head

but no one had ears to listen

so she told herself and told her mind

and though she didn't understand

she praised herself and believed she did

a good job and that when her voice returned

she would feel the same again

Lovesong for Spring

For season that gives bless’ed days in light,

Your comely looks will ever leave the shore;

For you a snowdrop land out for delight,

I wait and yearn for honeyed sound: amour.

Oh budding youth and binding honest smells,

No bird nor figure did evoke my mind;

Your sweet, your caprice tale in spring we tell,

Your dream of slumber wrote for me designed.

For you bloom lily, iris, rose with charm,

That dance, that laugh and soothe red eyes so sore;

So arrows cushion frays within your arms!

Complete devotion of my heart to yours.

By you my lonely heart shall be adored,

Go onwards, so our journey upwards soars.

Sweetness

I glanced at birds that set away

The dreary night that ended day.

Whence came sweetness?

By February bless?

The roses and lilies are clad in fair dress.

whims

here is a short poem i wrote inspired by the ever-brilliant mr. j.r.r. tolkien

the night is now upon us,

and the stars are shining dim;

the dark is full of shadows,

oh, but dark is but a whim!

it will pass, it will go.

so be light here in place:

always, never going,

never rivalled –

never.