Tune of Love (day 3165)

I wanna make love to you.
Not the love that races to the end
But the love that fills the sky
At dusk,
Or that dwells deep within the hearts
Of Canadian geese in flight.
I want to make love to you
Like the lazy sunshine
That kisses with closed eyes
In the middle of a green grass field
With bees drunkily stumbling by
On sweet mother Gaia’s nectar.
I want to make love to you
So that you feel the ocean rise
And swell
And lightly float around
From pink-red starfish tides
And the slow rush
Of retreating and surfaced seaweed
That entangles your every sense
As you submit to its enveloping wetness.
I want to make love to you there
Where sheets become props
And danger lurks within our eyes
Like phantoms who’ve been hiding
For generations.
I want to be there with you
For when you play lightly the strings
Of your most sensitive song
I shall be listening
So intent on your tune.

Strolling (day 886)

Day dream with me,
A stroll if you will,
Through weeping willows
Flirting the edges of a pond.
Home to Canadian geese
With park benches
Scattered about
In an loosely knit pattern;
Two left, four right.
And old lamp posts –
Think nineteen fifty New York
Al Capone and the Rat Pack,
Steeze so steep
It takes a cane to walk back up –
Strolling.
The only way to hold this dream
Is to head along,
Around and around
Strolling through the gay couples
Hand in hand in thought and plans,
Midday sun with passive flies,
Squirrels about gathering nuts
While little bits of escaping grass
Grow up between the cracks,
Making the scene one of delight
One of softness
Fit for a stroll