Sun on skin

soaking in heat

silky pulsing

and scented

meant for stroking

a sense exercise

to enhance

the immense radiance

that embraces

us

O marvelous

morning star maiden

what an exhilarating

birthday you bring

Through the eagerness

of fresh fire

you inspire the

infant day with that

initial rose-gold glow

of enthusiasm

Dispelling the pallor

of our past

Eclipsing the hopes

of the future

by illuminating the

actions of this day

with the sublime

sun of man

milk water white

light of moon fog

falling on the soft tin-stippled

paths of the plate lake

playing over levitated logs lying

on the edge of eerie ease

lolling with ripe ripples

that polish the pebble populations

to perfections

A moon maiden's

seraphic soprano

sung in the full lunar tongue

an emphatic stainless voice

that leaves one mindless

as a mooncalf...

with flute breath and oboe eyes

she greets me

wearing wreaths and waltzing with

adept adagio movements

What orchestrated artifice is this

that leaves me murmuring

mesmerized by

the music of the moon?

The moon draws the water

with luminous gaze

all life shifts subtly

to its rhythmic rays

pulses quicken, eyes glaze

passion tides pour forth

impatiently from

the throbbing, thudding circadian drum

A pallid compelling

open portal eye

awakens me

with its oddly heady midnight stare

a hidden growl is swelling

in my chest a restless

yearning shakes me

the white metallic glare

fevers my flesh

a joyful boyish unbidden howl,

lusty and long

echoes and escapes me

The reflected solar wind rails afresh

revealing and reveling in

the thinly radiant

uncanny presence

of my ancient

and still strong

instinctive intelligence

Mingled waters

cannot be parted

in their affinity.

the solid rain

on a still pond,

a water fall

in the fog,

broken ice,

even water over the dam

whirls, pooling

from the well spring

as one river

fated though forked

to fill the same vast sea

and you my thirsty friends

will be drowned unless

you learn to drink

Every pond pictures

its own portion

of the planet

the sensitive film of the surface

preserves

the inquisitive stick-fingered gestures

of the trees as they

scratch their cloudy curls

questioning the source of such

genuine ingenuity

A breeze furrows the

puddle's skin

jigsawing the scene

into new shapes

that will reassemble

into slowly

recurring reminiscences

rocketing reckless

in a rubber boat

we and the river roaring

deep within our throats

rafting whitewater rapids

where buffle head ducks

the ten point bucks

the osprey and the otter test their luck

Mountains make the background

where the only other sound

is the swish of fishermen's flies

And it seems just seeing

this boiling blue ribbon

is the prize

Crazy crack-jawed

yawning boulder brutes

whistle through aquiline flutes

and eat sweet black juice flutes

hunted hunch backed

holderskyes suck silence

through green eyes and sacred-footed

cleft clingers that punish apart

the bleeding hard hearts

with deft dirty finger kisses

Twisty tailed whistle dancers

dervish gaily for the daily whim

and delight of the great

invisible swirly swim-wish

while lazy forevers smile frozenly

as they round the astounded

sphinx-footed steep beaks

into smoothly jumbled humbles

small in the all quiet good time

Dear weather weaver

spinning the perpetual

patterns that

blanket the earth

with basic colors

and contrasts of natural order

white green brown and red

threads of seasons

winds of change

refreshing revolutions

looming predictably

pregnant and secure

with in the snug fabric

that clothes

our only home

Bright lemon yellows

mellow mahogany browns

heads red

with falling

crimson crowns

Autumn's freeze

dances on the breeze

tumbling circus trees

and tiny christmas clowns

The startled deer

race the season round

stirring the rainbows

that flutter

to clutter the ground

How crisp the air

warmed by sunsets

drifting everywhere

lighting the leafy avenues

with their astounding amber hues

Squirrels chatter on limbs that sway

creating a tintilating

brass ballet

Indian summer

with its ruby rustle

and burning bustle

is nature's blush

before the snow white hush

Wild flowers

appearing so

anachronistic

in the midst of

this midwinters field

where you chanced once to dwell

True, you are withered

but you recall fragrant warmth

and evoke colorful memories

Rare Powers,

Awake

when the stars sip

the dark wine of wisdom

from the silver chalice

of the sliver moon

divining from destiny

the arrival of dawn

Scattered Sunshowers

are rarely reported

throughout the world

they render visible

the tender cloudless moments

of fragile joy

transparent within us

Rejoice! you are one of them

Icicle bars

span my window

this cavernous night

Diamond dinosaur fangs dart

The luminous moon and stars

impart a crisp crystalline light

Tallow tapers shadow

the parchment walls

Then the breeze breaks

this breathtaking spell

making wind chimes

with frost rimes

and oriental bells

The liquid silver curtain of

melting snow drips

arythmically before

my door

grand ghostly strips

of bleached sheets

spook lazily

against the sparkling

haze of sunlit snows

The sharp incense of cedar

streaming freshly cut

from the broken windowed woodshed

spikes the brazen azure air

'Neath never needing new needled firs

slender wings startled stir

wafting perfume of their juniper bed

from bent chafed branched over head

Child's rock piled blocks

glossed with garish glowing moss

precariously balanced massive precision

supported by natural indecision

Provocative indigo broods

over magic carpet daydream interludes

spun while sprawled high atop ancient bones,

utterly alone

Sweeping swan's wings draws near

tier upon tier

of virgin veneer

wind blown

Stellar streams urge

these scenes to merge

and sway and surge

and say " Children

Come away

Embark today"

Kissed

with every essence

the blush petaled

foot of Spring,

to whose very presence clings

the well-aged

wine bouquet

of damp earth,

ambles thus anointed

through the ardor

of the ablaze arbors

to attend the rebirth

blessing blithely

laving lithely

all with aching life.

Sylph of Sunskin

ageless angel

woman of the world

wind willed, wild

a wilder-nested

sun flower

dayspring dressed for the fragrant lovers

that hover well seasoned

with southern sighs

for a glance from those

harlequin horizon eyes

Another muddy midwestern March;

the obvious odor of earthworms

squirms upward through the mulch

of last year's leaves

that squelch redundantly with each step

The once overwhelming winter's

snow now cringes in

dingy corners

A clammy mad directionless wind,

child of the mild season,

gleefully snatches caps

with mischievous abandon

and many hearty back slaps

giving an urchin's whoop

that sweeps street and stoop

the impish Gypsy then

curls a chubby fist and sighing

falls slumbering

into Spring

On a still night in April

you may thrill to a glimpse

of faeries, imps and nymphs

that faintly glimmer as they

gather to jig

with saintly, mad, saturnalian glee

rings round the ancient, infant, oaken tree

to summon that which is never left to chance

with the incantation and the dance.

An oddly warbled invitation

that tree frogs twist in imitation.

The spell has no words yet must be sung,

the step is only for the very drunk or very young.

So slowly and softly, I was drawn

by the elementals, elves and fauns

into the misty midst of the feast

to reel shoeless on fay feet.

With chorus upon chorus of this

enchanted chant

we conjured the season to honor

the ageless covenant.

And with the arrival of the Equinox

echoing in my head

the dawn approached and

the revelers fled.

And of this celebration

not a memory would remain

save myself in the morning

in the warm Spring rain.

The stained glass

window wings

of the Monarch arch

and repose in

apropos prayer

from the pulpit

of my fingertip

we contemplate

our complimentary forms

sanctified by the

forest shuttered sun

where silence

is both

wooden and golden

Fourth of July

fireflies glint green

between the spectacular gleam

of the spider legged fireworks

And if these bright delights

did not suffice

there was the free form glimmer

of the icy northern lights

Quite an illuminating experience

for one summer night

Jardenia,

Eden's island child

whose nature leans to nurture,

your lime light

dresses us in

iridescent chameleon cloth

cut from fruit skins

Thorns turn limp at a touch

cornucopias garland the

unattended gardens

Twin tongues of pleasure and leisure

tickle our inner ears

murmuring unisonorously

of fearless comfort

Drowsing couches

hammocks

of loosely whorled tussocks

with sheets of tapestried ferns

cradle us

as we dream slow

in the half glow

of cat's eyes and stars