Fragrant

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I have been to lavender fields on what you might call
“A great day.”
Oh that the flowers would have told me,
“Love buds not with him — come fast away!”
He’ll not pray that you sit
He’ll not fight the good fight
He’ll not be by your side ‘til the end
You’re the bride and the groom
You’re your own epic bloom
You’re your bravest and loving best friend

Pulsar Day

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What if I befriended time
Then took its outstretched hand

Separation was no more
Despite life’s shifting sand

Daytime, nighttime were as one
Without the fear of loss

Silver seconds, yearnless years
And age no bridge to cross

I beckon thee to join with me
In unrelenting drive

To put away some thought of death
To embrace what’s alive

Each minute is a golden hour
Each breath a pulsar day

When time gives us its outstretched hand
We must not look away

She Really Is

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She is not He
Nor an It or an If

She is Where It’s At, Has Always Been, and Forever More Will Be

Where If Goes To Become

She is Where He Needs To Be Attending To

She Really Is

She Is Peaches and Mittens
August Fire, Mountain Avalanche
She Is Baseball and Criminal

There’s no more Not Knowing Such Love

She Is Leading Me

Insults and Injuries

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I bemoan and decry
How
No one — absolutely no one

Whether in writing, or whether verbally
Neither by smoke-signal, ancient code, pony-express, street sign, Social, nor any other means of communication or Media

Except Shakespeare, himself

Provided instruction on the following:

Seeing the writing on the wall;

Surviving the sudden, unspoken goodbye;

Understanding in any way, shape, or form, heartbreak;

Avoiding the subsequent self-loathing;

Navigating the wrong kinds of depths, whilst working to resurface;

The exact location where one may file a writ of replevin to retrieve back their spirit — unshattered, whole, good as new — and perhaps their house key, as well; and,

Walking with confidence therewith.

Inspirational Credit:
“Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.”
-William Shakespeare

The Greatest

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Our colors, like water…like oxygen…work well together…like art from artists, were we to work in earnest.

What say you, America — will we work on love, on great…’fore the hour becomes late?

Original Thought Credit:
“…the greatest of these is love.” -1 Corinthians 13:13
“When America ceases to be good, she will cease to be great.” -Alexis de Tocqueville

As You Wish

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I weep
That we
Were not good
Enough

I long
That you
Would see you’re
Enough

Clutter from time to time
Mismatched clothes
My dawdling
Our difficult workdays
For you, were too much

Brass rings collected
Passports filled
Our non-fictitious Florin acquired
Love, had you’d let it
For me, these were enough

Pie

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I loved you
I loved
Sleeping along side you
Listening to you breathe
Basking in your presence through the night
Seeing in the morning you were real
Sharing berries at breakfast with you

I’ll be damned — you were larger than life

And your walking away — without a goodbye — a most epic plot twist

A pie in the face afterall