The wheels clack and moan./
Gazing at her golden hairI float in the sunset,
and lay there, half submerged;
half warmed by sun, half cooled with wet;
harmonizing breathing and chirping birds.
An hummed experience of oohhmmm that was new.
A sung peace that tuned my innermost core.
The harmonic returns again as I view
her golden-toned decoutage’ once more.
She somehow can carry within her calm face
the memories and tones of another peaceful place.
I need the chance to/
view what I can do with a/
new muse in those shoes!
OR
Give me a chance to/
view what poetry can do/
to a new shoes muse!
Amidst all downtown’s/Can someone who/
did not struggle with you/
to gain the mountaintop even understand
the triumph so grand?
Should they share the view?
Or
Should someone who
didn’t struggle with you
to the mountaintop
share the view?
Or should they stop?
The picnic invite
had the wrong address. Instead,
I got gorgeous views.
It doesn’t matter where the trail goes,
the kind of views we see.
Travel’s about life’s ebb and flow;
the connection of you and me.
The activities we could daily face
would pale in significance,
and become secondary in their place
to what we do in our own love’s dance.
Others may travel far and wide
to create their new experience.
But we, firmly at each other’s side,
daily grab and relish that chance.
For our souls have learned that these facts are true:
I’m your touchstone, and my destination is you.
Sometimes, to see what/
you need, you may have to turn/
your world upside down.
Beauty shows herself./
She appears in diff’rent forms./
We embrace each view.