Ruth

Butterfly on verbena bloom,
Cabbage-White to lift a gloom,
All we need is something bright
To fill this greying room.

Flutter-by on a butterfly bush,
Delicate, unveils a truth;
My delight, your sight prevails,
Abidingly for your Ruth.

You Are My Orchard

You are my orchard
And I am the apple;

You are my court
And I am the gavel;

You are my fishnet,
Trapping my salmon

Pink, anadromous,
Under your trident.

You are my bread
With spread raspberry leavened;

You are my harp’s head
And I am the chords,

You: Calliope, Erato,
Terpsichore, and I am

A new murmillo, absorbed;
We dance and we pause

While wild a world billows,
Resist the red pillows

And red-fonted clause
In a river once thawed.

You are X upon X
And I am your ink,

We wake from our trance
And bleach their gold sinks.

Escargatoire

A promenade of snails
And promises daily entailed,
Within life’s escargatoire
Resides a finer refuge
From the Summer hails.

Every season
Unseasonal,
We walk a mountain trail.
Those fine Autumn rains,
Appalachian;
More than mizzle,
Less than drizzle,
Somewhere blessed and inbetween.

Reminding me of times
When briefly I felt
Communion with my
Thalassic soul,
And saltwaters surrounding
That long-lost littoral shoal
Changed, in time,
Jurassic coast
Metamorphosed whole
From teeth into salves
And then what else
I’ll never know,
Fuel for other people’s dreams
And other people’s songs.

We gave the world away
To dancers and to singers,
But in the giving of our gift
We salsaed with the sinners.

It will not be so long
Before this Autumn’s gone;
Where do we go, love,
With all our homes eroded
In this unfathomable loss;
Where chances all expired
And the precipice is seen,
Who will build a northern spire
Where you and I once dreamed;
Of weather and of mountains
And snails in their desmene,
And who will put a cross atop
Our church beneath the Sea.

Ode To Beauty

Describing physical beauty
Should never begin with a form,
Society’s circular cruelties
Turn falsehoods into the norm.

So firstly undressing a kindness
For so long stowed in your heart,
Sharing love’s like-mindedness,
Sublimer sleeps the art.

All love is loving in layers,
Our bodies are only the start;
I’d rather see your soul flourished,
Where the lips of souls then part.