After the Rain YouTube
Here’s a recording of me reading me 🙂 Five poems from After the Rain.
Here’s a recording of me reading me 🙂 Five poems from After the Rain.
~
Of rain and bows
and arrows and hearts
Of beats of memory
left behind
Of breath and almost
and something close
Of passion of eyes
behind sad smile
Of cloud and breaks
of silence and storm
Of beats of memory
all forlorn
~
White
the mist rolls
‘pon the leaves of time
White
it curls
‘pon the memory of thine
; reflecting eyes
White
the mist rolls
‘pon the leaves of time
White
it drifts
‘pon the embrace of thine
; spirit of life
White
the mist rolls
‘pon the leaves of time
White
it kisses
‘pon the softness of thine
; fragile grace
White
the mist rolls
‘pon the leaves of time
White
it breathes
‘pon the sunburst of thine
; innocent charm
White
the mist rolls
‘pon the leaves of time
White
it plays
‘pon this heart of mine
; thine magical tune of love beguiled
~
In love with a traffic warden
with your slow walk of grace
and how you appear where I am not
and I appear where you are not
and then we both appear
to glance where we are not
looking at what we are doing
but at each other
and there with your grace
you stir my thoughts into a whirlpool of thoughts
but do I stir yours
or am I simply a blip on your radar
just a momentary glance before
you slow walk
along the concrete
which is being heated by the sun
kissed by your feet
and glanced at by your eyes
and away to the distance you go
where tin boxes receive the fullness
of your attentions
and the concrete is kissed by your feet
~
… folded into your smile
falling into your heart
flying deep into your soul …
Is this a witchcraft
Is this a sunburst
Is this nothing but a crease in time
… how soft the wind blows between us
how sweet the fragrance of our moments
how sultry is the air after the rain …
Is this a dance
Is this a thunderstorm
Is this nothing but a forest fire of emotion
…
Is this a dream
Is this a dream
Is this nothing but a dream of wishful thinking
where nothing is real
where you are yet to be found
where to be loved by each single petal of your spirit’s flowering
is but an eternity away
for you are yet to be found
for you are nowhere
and yet
there are times when the trees
embrace me
when the sunrise
kisses me
when the moon
enchants me
and when the very air
seduces me
… I’m wishing it was you
wherever you are
and whoever you are …
I’m wishing it was you
~
Beak full
skipping through daisies and buttercups
the blackbird hurries along
till it reaches the spread of green
beneath mottled clouds
beneath the blue
of distant time
and there in the shadows
he rests and imagines himself an owl
sailing through the night
with silent wings
seducing the air with soft caresses
of feathered kisses
in the darkness of night’s embrace
and there
beneath the comfort of green’s sanctuary
he peeks out at the distant blue
with only a beak of orange giving him away
and there
off he goes
to fill his beak once more
to feed his children not only worms and caterpillars
but tales of mystery and imagination
of owls and the beauty of life
and there
as they drift off to sleep
…
whoo hoooo
whoo hoooo
…
in the distance
of their dreams
beneath the comfort of green’s sanctuary