I grab them, trap them before they flee,
put them in my pen to recount them ‘ere I sleep,
moments of the day when hearts be one,
moments . . .
like treasure lost an eon,
re-discovered relics gold,
minted o’er Again
~ ~ ~
Strumming
syncopated fingers take their
ceaseless wanderings drunk of
bottled bubbles and
breathless whispers as
nocturnal rhythms
play Us
~ ~ ~
Daze
arisen,
countenance glazed, unshaven
amidst embers and wine,
butts and corks askew
in the tunnel dry of light,
shiny rails pillow for his head
he lay waiting for the Train.
Heat
I am scorched
marred of your fire,
ever stained.
ascend with me,
lay sweltering midst mine ashes
slow water me of your Rain