To The Moon

A little girl sits on a stool
her head deep in a corner
thinking of memories past,
crying.

Along comes a man of wishes
a suit of silver, a heart of gold,
his every whim a reality,
spying.

He says to her,
I'll hold your hand miss.
Why don't you join me?
flying.

Her head tilts back
to an endless night sky.
Her eyes, like the sparkles above,
shining.

And doesn't notice
the slip of her lips,
What if? She's almost
believing.

I'll hold your hand miss,
he repeats once more.
She feels so special already,
dearing.

Where are we going?
she inquires, still hesitant,
but powerless to turn away,
wondering.

We're going to the moon,
he assures, and reassures,
caressing her hand in his,
smiling.

A Giant Rice Crispy

Crunchy on the tip of my teeth,
the first bite.
Soft and sticky
as it's passed side to side,
making rounds in my mouth.
Sweet, then just a tiny bit bitter,
It's resting on my tongue now.
I hear my stomach
beginning to growl,
impatient for the next.

See this giant rice crispy
is home-wrapped in saran with love,
different from ones enclosed by foil
and stored on shelves of stores.

My World

In that radial world of mine,
where the beats drum and pulse
the melody rings high in the sky
crisp staccatos tingling under my skin,
I can feel Sound's slow saunter
bouncing to and fro.

In that empyreal world of mine,
light speeds and slows
through water and trees and concrete
illuminating and reflecting
all corners of our existence,
I breathe the aromatic energies of life.

In that celestial world of mine,
feelings are smells
and sights are sounds,
I am one with the sun and the moon
with the endless expanse of sea
and the earth on which I stand.

In that ghostly world of mine,
I can see the connected flow
all of God's divine creations
and man's mortallic things
intertwined in a sea of space
as One.

The Mariner

He sits
on a vessel
with sails
to horizon.

He smells
and tastes
of sweat
and brine.

He hears
the beat,
the pulse
of deep.

He shuts
his eyes
and feels
the sea alive.

Wildflower

I see a budding rose-flower
a slender, graceful figure
within my grasp, before me.
Her rosy lips open so slight
as if to entice the warm of mine.
Her scent so beautiful an attraction,
a love so unbelieving.
And so my heart beats troubled satisfaction.
I've seen her like before,
and perfected looks age quickly.
Passion seeks a change of color,
that sky-blue wildflower yonder.