Autumn gold,
changing colors,
Red, yellow, brown, green, violet.
Days grow short, the nights are cool—
A harvest moon fills the night sky.
You and I, an enchanted pair,
Seduced in this mystic spell.
Where Love
Has Gone
Autumn leaves
turn in the wind,
bright colors blow across the green.
Days grow short, since our long good-by,
I miss your kiss, your tender hand.
My darling, shadows fill the room,
I wait by your empty chair.
Your perfume scents silent rooms
where your bright laugh and smile once rang.
Nights grow long with thoughts of you
when autumn leaves begin to fall.
In moon-light your brown eyes appear,
a thousand stars in the sky.
The Source
Lady muse tempts me with
charms—
a sweet fragrance, a river view.
In moments unexpected,
she paints magic scenes with allure.
At her wink, the bright fictive realm,
sings like angles at vespers.
Raucously, she creeps with
stealth
into my bed and haunts my mind.
Relentless, her rhythm beats
a loud tattoo on the night air.
Like coffee, the syncopation
of my hot Muse weaves a spell.
Where Have
You Gone My Pretty One
Not one song stirs the
silence—
your empty nest lined with old mud.
No fledglings chirp and sing songs
with your gusto, persistent bird.
Where is your sweet, familiar voice
awakening at desert dawn?
An old man with a tin cup
scatters his crumbs beneath the trees;
only ants creep along the path—
in the morning sun there’s no song.
Return, brown bird, restore sweetness
by the still, empty garden seat.
Sijo
Lady Day
In the night she sings
laments—
the dark sad songs, of love gone wrong.
Two time man, caught with pants down—
blues in the night, my broken heart.
Teach me how to find loyal love
and leave behind faithless hearts.
Abandonment in
the Boudoir
He's her man, and he done her
wrong
said he loved her, and her alone.
Went down town to the florist
bought twelve roses for his lover.
All alone I sit so forlorn—
an empty vase, glass of gin.
Triolet
Vive la
Différence
Being différent
is art
yet, the dance must have some class;
true, tango makes you look smart.
Oh yes, différence is art!
But, beware, oh faint of heart,
too différent makes an ass;
because différence is art
invent a dance with some sass
A Triolet
Sequence
Entries From
The Diary Of A Lover Maddened With Your Beauty
Paean
In woods more dark than the
darkest dungeon
I languish—lost,
alone, besieged with doubt
entreating oracles like King Creon—
imprisoned in this damned self made dungeon
great Apollo, hear my humble paean
prostrate before your temple gate—devout
I plead to escape this hellish dungeon
where night is darker than the blackest doubt.
From a Distance
the Impressions of a Voyeur
Lurid in silver moonlight,
your shape on the wave washed dune,
an enchanted, ancient sprite,
captures me in the moonlight.
Your song like some bird of night,
an encompassing monsoon,
enticing in the moonlight
your dance on the wave washed dune.
All The Things
You Are
You are the one who rocks my
soul with love;
Your tempting smile replaces tedium.
You are tender as a stalk of foxglove—
None but you shakes my core with shocks of love.
My sprite, you are my ball and chain—by
Jove!
You are my blossom, my Spring trillium;
In summer, fall or winter my sweet love
Your fictive wink replaces tedium.
Like Moonshine
The nectar of your kiss
Lingers on my warm lips
I am drowned in our bliss!
The nectar of our kiss,
roaring ocean abyss,
intense, like an eclipse,
your aphrodisiac kiss,
aggressive on my lips.
Cinquain
In Motion
Autumn
colors painted
across the forest hills—
soon the cocoon of winter white
engulfs.
Checkmate
Senses
inflame passions—
but sensibilities
civilize the unruly heart
at dawn.
Cat Haiku
arched back
in the fenced corner
defending her land
old Tom cat—
not even the high board fence
keeps him out
a bevy of cats
yowling on the backyard fence
the great pumpkin grins
sharing toast and
tea
my cat curled in my lap
goblins at the door
Haiku
at summer's
end
acorns litter the ground
a harvest moon
winter cold—
the fragrance of oak
in a log fire
cotton balls
white on their green stalks
a mountain skyline
Senyru
at breakfast
all the news unfit to read
pass the cream, please
a bevy of cats
yowling on the backyard fence
the great pumpkin grins
at the
dumpster
three men and a lady
breakfast leftovers
