Kiss of Summer


Speak to me in waves of brilliance

making metaphors out of stars;

your eyes exchanging glances with mine


like similes that once hung the moon.


Romance is as simple as syllables

that find a home as sentimental verbs;


castles making a home in the sand


until the tide comes in.


Walk barefoot with me

splashing kisses of summer

into midnight interludes


making footprints in unlikely places.






Saving Grace


Before adversity digs in its heals

on my winding pathway to fate,


wishing for blissful sleep,

I come to you on bended knees

begging for comfort; for clarity of mind


and your light never fails to shine


lending warmth to hollow places,

solace to cloudy shades of uncertainty;

tranquility to once shattered spirit.


Now, my rivers run quiet; ripples of hope

spilling into what were once only dreams

of something as simple and complicated


as love.





Blue Smoke


When syllables come knocking

at any hour, I surrender arms,

fingers; foreshadows

of butterfly’s flutter.


Darkness is not always black,

but, blue; this gloomy essence

that can melt a soul with presence.


Should I let go of all this blues,


the sky would bloom

in a burst of gladness.





Crackers in Bed


They weren’t your nightmares

to chase away;

fears to calm,

and you never signed up to rescue me

from my own imagination.


Sometimes you have to save someone

More than once;

2:07 AM therapy sessions-


diagnosis: my past.


No one told me

that abuse come in many forms

and that by any definition,

control is not love.


Pain trickles slowly

like hydration from an i.v.

as life flows back in


through transfusions of love.






Tangled Versions of Us



These little things like sighs;

like brush of fingertips across waiting skin

send soft breaths to petaled places

where thirst for love feels more innocent

than any blossoming flower we have held.


Lips do more than whisper and when

sweet nothings leave prints

and giggles find a place in awakening thoughts.

We meet in meter keeping perfect time

in intimate increments.


Keep my bare feet on a blooming path

and my hands longing for yours


and stay close enough to touch the tremble

when rains come and feel every tousled strand

as we sway


into tangled versions of us.







When the moon dances

in a private recital, and syllables

seem to cascade over the tongue

like sweet memories

finding a place to land,


we get sentimental;


words, like kisses capturing hearts

trading inhibition for flutter;

longing, for fate’s blushing glow


of grace.


To give in

is a gift draped in solace,

drowned in laughter

that only sacred souls can hear,


and when less fortunate circumstance

floods these walls with days

void of color,

let this bridge we have built

bring us closer to the path we seek;


every footstep softer

than the one before.






Playing in Poesies

When winds kiss the softness still in my face

blowing sentiments through tresses into syllables,

and oh, the light that shines when dawn breaks!

This love still flows, like rivers,

mends all of the scratches and breaks;

those little imperfections that make us, us.


I can see that mountain from here-

here in these flat lands where bluebonnets cry

and constellations revel in knowing

that Texas skies are unmatched,

as we sit under them

playing in poetry and forget-me-nots.