Magician’s Scarf

Who each woman is

Does she smell like lavender fields

More worthy of obsession with each passing Day

Why the fabric of her dress upon her skin causes men to sing?

The Earth springs forth, as I imagine, musical notes with her every step. Yes.

Such passion must she follow, as to leave us inspired

Her smile draws from an endless-deep joy well

Words from her soul have him come hither, a pulling of magician’s scarf

Again With Gravity

Happiness takes its leave


As a tablecloth trick

By an amateur



Hope, desire and promises

As silver, crystal and china


Clashing again with gravity

The guy in the bow tie

His lovely assistant

The only half-expectant spectators

Shake their heads

Murmur something and linger

But they do move on

The curtain falls

Only I remain

Needing to know

What went wrong

Who’ll clean up this mess

Am I the only soul

Who stood in earnest?