#Fantasy
Flowers in the desert Vibrantly grow forth In yellows and purples Despite the salty Earth And when I think about
Come and find me in this garden; I know not where the hours go. Palm fronds brush against my cheek… Lone toadstool, blush of mallow. They say this is the Garden of Ed…
Let us drink in the sunshine From a cup of globe mallow As would one of palatine Privilege beside God’s throne. Here’s to another springtime.
Love is two pairs of footprints Impressed in the sand. Will you ever walk beside me And together go home? Love is sunlight that makes
What a curtain Bisbee has That keeps Mexico subdued And influences the lands From which the Sierra was hewn. What purple folds keep Oaxaca
As empty as the future So is a soaked page Whose ink has run off. I hope to be the author; A new and boundless decade
Music starts my little church And bids us goers “come forward” - Timid and cleansing at first - Bringing voices to one accord Then Chris’s voice waxing loud
My heart is an empty jardiniere Receptive to flowers and affection… By your wayward glances, I could… There is a festering attraction But speak up bravely; be not passi…
See there marches Orion With Sirius close at his feet Tarrying not long in the air To begin the midnight hunt. His quickened breath congeals—
Every day is a new adventure A new iota, a new gnosis— Search not by the easy standard But see through the eyes of genesi… The more I learn, the more I love
A dream is a butterfly Fresh from the cocoon That is realized and soon Flutters up into the sky Or faltering, goes astray
On waves of midnight blue— We shoved off in the boat— It mattered not where to— Anywhere at a casual knot. We entered a world of darkness
Our Sun imprints heavy July Upon a crimson sunset. The first star I see in the west Brings with it a cobalt sigh...
Ample is the rising sun That alights the furthest mountain… A carmine drape upon every hill— Exciting the birds to warble. Ample, too, is the evening sun
By a gently flowing creek— I saw a swallowtail flutter About my head, as though meek— And land softer than a feather. He was large enough, I swear—