My hands shake
As I raise an overfull cup of coffee
Perhaps already had enough
But I’ll continue to be me
These roads, waterways & paths
The most beautiful moments I’ve come across
I love you, but I sometimes I have needs
Today I’m going to purposely get lost
Life doesn’t have to be difficult
It’s not easy or perfect or always fun
Often times we must merely survive
It’s all a cycle – a promise of a rising sun
Keep vigilant & maintain the good fight
Anything is possible when you have hope
Let us go into battle hand in hand
But first – a quickie would really help me cope
Let us survive these dog days
The warmth still rising up to a boil
I’d rather be walking down the beach
But I’m forced to relentlessly toil
I wish to be holding your hand
As we walk in the evening’s glow
Soft words filled with eternal promises
For your love is the last I’ll ever know
Tisk tisk, Mr. Smith
She slapped her hand with the pointer
Looking up, I see she’s stern
I stand, wishing to anoint her
I am commanded to about face
I’ve committed an infraction
Taking stock of my flesh
She swoons in satisfaction
But I’m returned to my kitchen
Now pouring a cup of Lady Grey
The kettle broke the spell
My imagination had taken me away
The warmth of the First Coast has returned
But the ocean haze is beating out the sunshine
Sitting on the boardwalk, cold drink in my hand
My love reading me the pages of ‘Dandelion Wine’
Summer hasn’t arrived with its full force
In the breeze, the air cool, yet warm for March
Sideways glances, thinking of her last night
Her beauty mine to behold, her back perfectly arched
Watching children playing in the surf
These quiet beaches surrounded by thick mangroves
A wilderness of paradise’s perfect setting
Your whole life waiting for such an idyllic trove
Where there’s no concern for silly tan lines
The sunshine kissing our bodies like a magic wand
Getting lost, leaving unmentionables on the line
Removed from sight, her underbrush covered by palm fronds
It’s different once your cross into the sand
Slow your mind, pour a frozen drink & a slice of Key Lime
Colors, flavors & appetites are all enhanced down here
Mother Nature’s sun, precise remedy for the Wintertime
Image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay
Excuse me, Miss
I need help between the books
You look down your glasses at me
Don’t worry about their errant looks
You’re dressed mighty nice
I think it’s by the back shelves
It seems I’ve gotten us lost
Oh my, I think we’re by ourselves
I pull you in close
A hand sneaks under your skirt to play
You moan aloud; onlookers’ smile
Apparently we’re still on display
Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay
The Lord created me for one purpose
To show you passion & keep you happy
I’m here to reciprocate this smile
Though it might come off kinda sappy
I want nothing more than all of you
To take your hand & forever dance
Please excuse my directness
I’m hopeless when it comes to romance
Saddle up to the counter
Anxiety requiring a shot or two
Feeling warmth of liquid bliss
Slowly beginning to feel like you
Tension of these recent events
But knowing he’s always on your side
Methodically flirting for good measure
You’re aglow; his fair-haired bride
Hand in hand to go dance in the rain
Never letting storms dampen your night
Electric kisses & a dress clinging as it drips
It’s perfectly transparent; albeit no longer virginal white
Civil disobedience
Marching against their sullen grain
Public executions of our citizens
The ones whom systematically resemble our pain
Exhibitions of our worst character traits
The trembling hands with transcribed blood
Outside of the panoramic eye
Yet all the same, caught in the seismic flood
A taciturn refusal to simply exist
Check your feed for what revolutionaries say
Bold proclamations & campaign slogans
But eventually the media hype fades away
Some other crime or scandal to catch your eye
Lights, cameras & we all return to normal instead
Forgetting those who can’t whore for Zuckerberg
But the people still live with a price on their head
Feeding page after page into the typewriter
I feel like a Saint from a forgotten realm
They could really write back then
Keeping an even keel with one hand on the helm
I’m not the pirate you bargained for
Simple words of varying degrees
I write of the love you’ve desired
But when I only smile, you call me a tease
Aviation exhaust & diesel fumes
Hands, face & soul; covered in grime
Expectations placed firmly
I’ll relax when we have the time
Wandering this lonely vessel
Before passageway lights go red
Slowly searching these oceans
When I’d rather be with you instead
Closing my hand around her concept
The starkness of her blonde aspiration
Seeing the truth behind her veil
My ministrations lead to her liberation
“Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body.” -Walt Whitman
Midnight’s a fine time to take the Jacksonville train
Rolling double boxcars to decide our fate
Gotta get back to my lover’s bedside
‘cause women like that don’t hardly wait
Been dreaming of her since the days of steam
Finely dressed woman with incalculable sense
I’m lagging behind schedules & timetables
Hindered by a world of devastating pretense
Spellbound, in the terminal cloister, trying to keep track
Our destiny dwindling, chanced by the tumble of dice
Fearing snake eyes when we need eleven
For lightning isn’t going to strike us down twice
Separation has me feeling on the edge of sincerity
Bleary eyes blinked time & again for some sanity
I’m not emotionally set up for these tribulations
Fear of failing, yet no marks upon my frivolous vanity
Memories of forgotten moments in the text
Perhaps it’s time for me to remain fully alert
But I can’t ignore how my insides churn
The notions of the woman so beautifully pert
It’s risky to return my heart for ante
Somewhere she’s loosening her bustle
This venture is getting out of hand
When she’s applying her legendary hustle
Pulling into the station, I know my lot
A few hours late; enough for passion to be reclaimed
I’ve tried my best, but crapped out again
In my weakness, I become loved; that’s when the angels came
Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay
