Whispered endearments
tickling my ears
every breath
drawing me near

Featherlike fingers
up and down my arms
each movement charms

Kisses so soft
sailing aloft
on clouds of reverie

Lustfilled eyes
hypnotise
Stop being a tease
take me now, please

stalwart ice beneath our bold steps
the treachery of slopes
and the needles in our shins
the calves the wrists

we dream of natures kiss
and forelock youth
beneath a blue

we linger here behind the view
our dark wide screen
of vision care

Our pharmacy of meds
in tote We ratttle in
our winter coats

And for a day respite is
near The puffer steers
away and clear
That hissing mask
that holds us dear
like hostages so close
and near

IT’S NOT ABOUT UMBRELLA TREES
I feel the August heat still
rising from the tarred city street
sitting hands on knees
under three umbrella trees
and the smell of olive oil
garlic and sweet basil looking for me
from the kitchen window
just behind.

Time nurtures the heart
in memory
and the ghosts I see
still watch over me
hands on knees
under the shade
of umbrella trees
three..

text me with your fingertip
your filed shorn smooth little nail
drawing water beads apart
on the old mirror

take your Midol and drip toothpaste
from the frosted steam kissed lips
leaning hips against the warm
counter the cold sink edge

the drain swirls away
the night fog

hair spray makes the coif settle
and perfume on all
temporal points of landscape
The plains the little mountians
the lush valley