Tuesday, April 24, 2012

In Time (it rhymes)

His clothes
smell like
pine 

I stare 
at him like
wine

he 
is 
fine

in time
he will 
call me

mine.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

No More Poetry


I am no longer saving my words for poetry
I am saving them for you
I won’t say a word
But I want to

Sing you a verse
Hold your hand
Breathe your air
Paint your sky

Walk your dusty roads
Work your plans
Have a Coke or brew
My heart in your hand

It is hard to be away from you
Harder to be beside

Because

I am not saying a word
Though I want to
I am no longer saving them for poetry
I am saving them for you



P.S.

Let’s have lemonade
And banana pies (again)
Stories get better
When we take time





photo from here