A link for The Dawn Review with these poems: Their Score; Nourishment; Karma Khord; It Is A Dream For Every Day; The Gifts
Their Score
The birds again
Fly up and sit on the corner
Of the railing on the deck.
They decidedly turn their heads to their right
To look at me through the writing window
They have little patience
And ruffle their displeasure
That food has not yet been scattered for them
It is a slow morning of melding,
I tell them.
They remain stern.
The coffee still needs to dance in me,
I plead.
They glare.
They refuse to sing again
Until breakfast is served
The sunrise offers new colors
To them
Even that, an unsuccessful cajole.
Squirrels wait anxiously;
They know they get leftovers.
So, soon seeds sown.
Sunrise can exhale
Landscape tells me its message
And magic songs follow
Nourishment
Since this morning
I have been under the influence of
your fiery words.
I am sitting in a chair,
You watching me direct the shifts of the shadow.
Your eyes say all the words we need.
The shadows move quickly ,
then stop to pause and watch.
They offer understanding and as often they do,
illustrations of inspiration.
They are my nourishment
The shadows that dance from the sky
Embrace me and help me laugh
And ponder
So you watch me
And now you ponder
The different shades of sleep flow
As all of your favorite wake ups
are singing your name
In the different smiles
I am giving to you
As I bask with the sounds of the night
adjusting before the dawn,
my mind and body relax and
open and grow.
then the day is set.
I can pause almost anywhere,
anytime,
for a cup of contemplation.
the coffee’s brew
Captures the room,
the still reluctant morning
not yet waking up.
She asked when to come and was told 6:03 a.m..,.
The wait continues.
I once was told women fall in love
with their ears.
Yet I think I hear
Much more of the music
now a sip and another sky message.
smell is ready,
taste is ready,
touch is ready.
all quiet and serene outside,
the romance of a perfect morning offering
its fullness and lushness for 6:03
How wonderful, how savory, it is to have
the poem of passion whispering in your ear
as we awaken this day
Yet stir, the wind is the only way
I can sing to you now,
to touch you, to hold you,
As I ride the wind to you.
The dawn tries to go forward
A lone bird sings
A few deep breathes,
The path ahead forms
Time to open the gate
With another cup of nourishment
The moon has left and the
day noise will soon rumble
then later in the sunshine,
art shows and carousels will call
Can the sun just sing such tunes all day long?
That sure is possible,
For that moment of bliss
by the shimmering lake named after me.
The elusive chord that was slow to arrive
Comes as the trombone’s 7th position
Hits that rare note.
As I wait for the long gone thwap
of the once fat newspaper hitting the pavement
And to see her shoulders revealed for the first time
We live the same demand,
the same desire of our bodies and souls
Come take me before the sun fades
Karma Khord
Each morning note
is one more chord in
the slow awakening of senses,
the savoring of the new path
ahead for the day.
There is only the smells,
the tastes,
the touch,
the sounds and
the joy on the morning menu
to fuel the luscious, luxurious start
and day.
Leave the baying of the
outside world where it belongs,
not with us.
Our song is one that sings
that true thoughts
of our dreams
as the herbs to the day
With us, it will be tasty
Today gives us a day for us.
No others.
Another gift.
It will be hot and cool,
misty and dry.
We will climb and conquer,
laugh and discover,
pause and gaze.
Your magnet eyes will
pull me in stronger
as my heart delves deep,
my fear slowly being pushed aside.
All lips will part for our pleasure.
You will glance at my hardness
and smile at what you caused,
even as you moan and smile
in joy from my tongue and touch.
As our taste fuels me,
our combination of bodies and desire,
passion and want,
Now I feel the scent of the air
in the morning earlier than ever,
the peace it offers,
the magical moments where I can just be
in the painting.
The door that opens to the dreams
that wander and wonder.
Please come
It Is A Dream For Every Day
Salty taste on the skin.
The waves beckon..
They tempt, they tease..
All while the hair hides the eyes,
Then a;; of them look up as you come closer…
Feeling wet, happy, laughing, alive,
One good wave sets you back.
Does it loosen anything?
Just my heart and its pounding,
much like the wave announcing itself
to the shore
In a few hours
The sun will smile all over my body
Observing the details of the trance
From its penetration and of its convincing
Medley and quiet cocktail glance
Opening summer on any day
Opening the moment when I feel just you
Everywhere
The beauty of tasty passion..
A dish that appears cold still sizzles and warms.
The menu presents with just enough to confer anticipation,
To roust the past, when frolic guided the scampering
Shaking hands with the gusto skipping to find the next helping
My summer tree has
Many branches
For hiding
Holding
Sitting
And for climbing.
It gives me the best spot to see
Where, exactly, in the world
She is, and where I must go
For the true summer
Of holding hands always
I can leave my
Eyes open forever
When I submerge
In the blue embrace
Now to learn how to hold
My breath
Longer and longer
For all to benefit
You saved my life that summer night.
Restored my belief in whimsy
and wishes,
and innocence…
it was a summer dream
That wants
to come to life again
The Gifts
It came as promised, slow then steady, loud and muted
The rain made no secret of its nourishment
Simultaneously easing one to sleep and causing one to rise
Not quite a vigil, but a loving ritual. Gaze into the horizon, where sky and earth blur, pondering the essence of a distant lover. The heart beats a rhythm of longing. In the quiet, hear the echo of promises, words suspended in the vastness between here and there. Will today’s sun, resting from its mid day dance in secret shadows, be a fiery witness to the quiet burning passion, or will it stay in shades of thoughts and words. The private night stars once again are eager and ready to guide, a solitude of companions to the journey of tomorrow.
On or off, the light switch of the morning seems unsure. Does the sunrise want to steal the sun’s thunder early? The week is shifting from one thought to something new yet to be decided upon.
Take the night, when all flee me, it says to me
It gives itself to me, not quite a demand but wonderful insistence
So I am partaking and exhaling in duet
Slow steady songs from the birds today. A cold stillness that is not moving at all. So the sunrise inches above the trees, almost cautious, almost timid to challenge the cold time stop. So for the moment, it is a wait for the song to change to the warm tune of wake up and warmth.
The walk is in the still quiet, secret time, with all of the those things off in the distance remain so in nooks and dens. Time walks with us, to join in the slow offer of after-rain smells and sleeping northern lights and morning animals deciding to sleep an extra hour. So it is for us, one of those moments I realize immediately I want to last forever.
Home eventually, the great great coffee of the day insisting on a second cup. Sounds of soft chewing of a bone. The sky says, okay, my turn to have fun and in an instant down comes the steady hard rain. It dares me to dance in it, and I so want to , but I cannot without you….so it rains harder to tease me more.
There are sounds of sleep throughout as the caliginous sky permeates
As now the switches seem to have awaken
Perhaps, quietly, shifting to the open road of smiling
Eyes
And better aromas.
