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.

 

 

~

Reverberation

 

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.

 

 

~

the Jewels in Stardust

I look for you in shadowed places

where fireflies flicker light 

in perfect symphony with the stars.

 

I thought I would always find you

where mountains meet heart shaped clouds;

 

two souls embedded in memory

like gems blanketed in soft sand

waiting to be uncovered.

 

On the night you left,

a constellation fell from the heavens

and pieces of my heart that were missing

danced in sync with the notion

 

that after this burst of radiant calm,

things would never be the same 

 

again

 

 

 

~

 

Missing Train (of thought)

 

What happens if the words won’t come

 

anymore?

How will this ache;

this yearning urge to spill,

subside?

 

There is no fear of death

or demons, but rather, this terror

of torn syllables unable to form

 

the perfect sentence.

 

I can speak in whispers

if the chords cannot escape,

touch you with my eyes

 

to tell the story,

 

but, when muse delights in constellations

within my clandestine 2:00 am moments,

desire takes hold,

suppressed thoughts scream to speak

 

and the poet in me

just has to write.

 

 

~

Painting Moons

 

Keep me closer to the stars

 

as light lends lucidity

to matters of the heart.

 

Paint moons with your smile,

our laughter tickling angels awake;

every little flutter softening breezes

blowing sounds of silence 

as we slow dance

to nature’s own chorus.

 

We could stay dreamers

until winter comes

 

taking these silken petals

and leaving leaves to say goodbye;

lending solace to forgiving seasons.

 

 

~

Unbroken

Will waves wash away our names

scribbled in beaches of San Josef ?

 

White sand couldn’t cover your love

expressed in moonlit walks

and sand dollar dreams, peeking

from shining gems of soul.

 

Keep me in your light

with kisses, sweet;

close caresses when nights are long

and time is short. Love me

when stars fade into morning

carrying our dreams

into daylight muse.

 

Touch my face like you always have

and speak of Italy,

of gondola rides in Venice

and strolls through Paris in the rain,

without an umbrella.

 

Move with me through shadowed spaces

with no fear of change, loss, or indifference.

 

Let them dispute the idea of eternal love;

 

just hold my hand

and prove the whole damn world wrong.

 

 

~

No Love Lost

 

Walking out with nothing

but the clothes on my back,

starting from scratch,

 

and I could finally breathe.

 

The March air was crisp 

and fireflies lit up the sky

 

like no starry night I had ever seen.

 

When the sun rose, 

I could finally feel the light;

warmth of freedom

upon my face

in the mirror, seeing beauty

through eyes that did not hate.

 

Silence was never so sweet;

 

rain never so soft

and cleansing

as when I washed my hands

of you.

 

 

 

~