Motes of pollen
through songs of dust
summer's laughter
blown as musk

blanket with lovers
hopes arrayed
as sunlight reigns
plans are made

Food with bees
blankets near trees
careless laughter
trickling in streams.

The day is still
wide skies azure
they eat their fill
their love is pure

A dream unfolds
too soon broken
by wasps of truth.
Three words spoken.

It's been lovely..

Everything is not sex

everything is not sex nor lust
in my life love comes first
on the sands we roll
I run about
you lie around

my clothes I remove
you let yours fly
then suddenly you come by
sit around my back
touching me every now and then

after all that nothing happens
a kiss is what I want
and in my arms you fall
love me that’s all
let sand flow out of your palms
and kiss me love
anywhere ,twill be like a smoothing balm

we make love
on the sands….

Fun

A Kookaburra whispered in my ear.
That he wanted to know of my life here
I told him to go jump in the pond
"But of him, I was very fond"

I raced to retrieve my pen and pad
Then threw it away which may sound sad
Talking about sad it is a thing of misery
As the nights grow longer it entraps me

They did this entrapping thing in another land
To catch diamond smugglers with red hands
This reminded me of a job I’d done
Painting a chair for my dear ole Mum

LOVE

Love, ah love, we swoon,
it's aura reaching out from in the womb of life,
its cradle rocked in rhythms that beat in time,
it is our shrine, our Armageddon,
full of pain, the pain of being shunned,
or being stunned, no longer capable of reason.

Quite out of season roses bloom,
and on the loom of warm regard,
the warp and weft are twined,
locked in to something we can't totally understand,
ecstatic, full of dreams of unreal things
that mundane thoughts can never quite retain.