Always You

You are my light and my eyes in sight.
I love the way your hair falls around your face,
Tracing the outline of a heart.
I love your sense of humor and the sound of your laughter,
Especially the shy laughter, when you fear that I’ll tickle your feet.
I love the freedom of your spirit as you live your life unpretentious, unafraid.
I love the way you cock your head to the side when you smile,
And oh what a smile. So true in it’s brightness, glistening white and honest,
Even when it’s naughty (but usually it’s innocent fun.)
I love the way you wiggle and squirm, giggling, as I kiss your neck from behind.
And then how your noisy fidgeting turns into a slow moan.
I love your naïve innocence seeking direction in me.
I love your natural beauty, not afraid to shine as it does, boldly, warmly,
Like the sun upon my skin.
Your beauty is like a flower, like a daisy growing wild in a field,
Going at first unnoticed, then taking my breath away.
This beauty is confident, although though you are not.
It shines forth, radiating, with careless abandon,
With freedom unbridled, unashamed of it’s naked glory.
This beauty, born of nature, is sparkling, alive.
It is a stream laughing over the rocks, flowing freely, making a melody
As it laps at the shore. This beauty, your beauty, is a campfire, a wind-song.
Your beauty is a flower child, singing love songs at night,
And walking through green fields in daylight.
Like a hippies love it shines forth, clapping hands and tambourines,
Swaying to and fro. Contagious joy spills from you.
I love the tiny hairs on your back and the freckle under your eye.
There exists a classic beauty in the dimensions of your face,
In the curve of your cheek and the slope of your nose,
And the dimple in your chin, and in your lips,
Poignant, perfect, forever.
I love your small feet that are shy, and your small hands that are bold,
As they clutch with hungry fingers and color me pretty nails.
The list of my love goes on forever, and there will never,
Be a stain upon my dream of you.

Your Fair Garden

In your fair garden
I found a new sun
And a reason to believe again
A new season of love
Was growing
With surprising color and stones to border
The edges of my broad heart
Watching you transform the earth
Smiling
Glistening in the sun
I tried to remember why my love died
I felt the warmth of your hands
As you toiled
Earthen hands
With nails that scratched the earth to new growth
Yes I fell in love again
There was shade and sunlight
And tiny green sprouting everywhere
Sweat and sunshine
Raw dirt
And vivid color
Such life growing by your hands
Working the earth into a bright frenzy
And I had fallen again
In your fair garden

Your Passion

Your passion swings like a pendulum
Chanting fierceness, then throbbing joy
It clings to silence
Then bends in laughter
Such passion is out of place in apathy
On this stoic globe of sameness
Your passion runs in high waves
Of love, like murder
Of fashion, faith
And a newborn child of honesty
Peaks and swells of great emotion
Small joys and smiling, bursting wonderful
Your tide ebbs and flows
And passion
Is the ocean
Your passion speaks sometimes
Through your eyes
And they shine like daggers flying
Esos ojos de loba (Eyes of the wolf – feminine)
They penetrate the distance
Or they hug with warmth.
Joy sails from your eyes
And your passion
Beeping, beeping
The alarm-clock of your heart
Without it you would sleep
It pulses and throbs, your passion
And it makes my life complete

Gentle Image

Your gentle image transforms me
And I stumble from myself
Sliding down your lips
Resting in the shade of your eyes
Rolling in shiny hoops from your ears
I become another
And you become my lady
You are watching me with delicate eyes
From everywhere you watch
All your eyes shine lovely
And I am not the same from the watching
I imagine your skin
And the cold burn of your lips
I am startled
By your possession of feminine
Demure in frank beauty
Naturally you shine

Princesa De Amor

(Princess of Love)

Princesa De Amor
Part I

She is floating softly, hovering
Then walking the line
One foot in front of the other
Shining with delicate she spins
Smiling
Teasing between worlds and slumber
And moments of waking laughter
She is a dream, a creature Angelic
Yes, Angelica
The princess of Love
She is too good for this world
Or too bad
Her passion too strong to test the balance
So she taunts
Slapping the face of oblivion
But sweet is the fragrance of her scarves
And her walking legs are holy
And with silk
She merges, swaying
Washing from world to world
Playing with children she smiles
Too pure for this world
Mi Muneca Blanca (My white doll)
Sail away
Woman of brown, sail away
Mi mariposa, (My butterfly) sail away
Then return to this world
With bliss


Princesa De Amor
Part II

She is misunderstood, this woman of faith
People confuse her humanity with anger
They confuse her drifting worlds
With silent amnesia
But the people suffer for not knowing the truth
They suffer a frozen death of the spirit
But she sings, and they can not meet her gaze
Yet she is simple
And she melts in my hand
I hold her by a silver thread and she purrs
The Princess of love purrs for me


Princesa De Amor
Part III

In the beginning, before the dawn
When the world was not the world
The Princess hovered, waiting for light
Now she flies above the sun
And swims beneath it
Pouncing on joy with a tremendous smile
Inter-dimensional, drifting
A citizen of multiple worlds
She is freedom
Playing in ocean-waves
Angelic of spirit
She walks the earth with humans
Yet there is passion in her bed
Her eyes are brazen
As she tastes the flesh of her lover
And while she dreams
Snow falls
Drifting from the sky

Sunday Morn

The broad dark sky was tree-lined,
Such a vast expanse of gray.
Clouds they were, spilling rain,
On a Sunday morn, but there was no field of corn.
Only Black asphalt paved the way
To the steepled roof, where people knelt to pray
And sing as they did, with hands outstretched
Voices aloft,
Weeping.
And the man with gestures
Spoke and walked to and fro
Extrapolating certain meaning
From the small words in the big book.
Alters were built,
And should be built, he said,
As I held your hand.
Wells were dug and wells are good,
He said,
As I recalled the rain
Then drew an imaginary ring on your finger,
Smiling,
Hoping that it would not wash away in the rain.
This world is unkind,
Said the nice gesturing man,
And I think that he is right

Rainmaker

Rainmaker, water-maiden,
Give me first your mist,
Gentle drops to kiss my lips,
Your glistening dew,
A moist blanket,
To nurture this sleeping heart.
And then, pour your love on me in buckets.

For I am the dry man, the scarecrow.
Draped across my wooden frame,
I hang.
Lonely in the field, my only communion
Ravens, and snakes.

Washing over my neglected bones,
Your drops fall diagonally, torrentially
Onto my barren soil,
And I sprout.
Tiny shoots of grass grow in me thanks to your rain.
Hot, hard cracked earth is now lush,
Like my lover’s garden.

My lips were cracked, like the ground,
Dry from the drought
And with dirt in my mouth,
I fell dizzy from the sun.

My precious waterfall, renew me with your flow,
And green, I will grow, I will grow.
Caught in your deluge, I will laugh,
Drenched, I will laugh,
Because in your loving rain I am full.
You have soaked my green meadow, filled my waterways.
My stream becomes a river in your flood.
Gullies and lakes and oceans lie within me,
And you have filled them all.
Pour your love upon me beautiful girl.