SUMMER´S END:

The moon melts the ice in her glass,

She gazes at her hopes down the side,

Knowing that it is the last of summer,

As the sun casts orange shadows in her mind,

And the wind laughed in her face.

MUSIC:

Play me the flute of life´s repute,

Of all that´s good, of love & compassion,

The music of all that´s beyond refute,

Of loves platonic & those of passion.

Play me the sitar of gentle chantings,

Of all that´s faith & all that´s God,

Of the gentle earth & all our plantings,

Of life in water, sky & humble sod.

Play me the drums of ancestors old,

Of all who have passed & those to come,

Resounding messages of nations bold,

Echoing past the moon into the arms of the sun.

Play me the lute, guitar, mandolin, penny-whistle,

Pluck me, strum me & beat me the tune,

Serenade the rose, the oak, the wind-blown thistle,

So all may dance beneath the crystal moon.

But of all the symphonies I wish to hear,

Is that of your voice, now long gone,

Listening with my heart & not my ear,

Lingering in my soul, your eternal song.

VALENTINE:

I´m your woman & you are my man,

Tools in Deity´s masterful plan,

In this temporary life, we have been lent,

Molded in unending firmament,

We drift as wind touching the sun,

Kiss as the foam & shore, together as one,

As Neptune swims & Pegasus flies,

Our love, as their legends, never dies,

As the tide cannot live without the sea,

I was born for you & you for me,

Endless as the desert dune,

Powerful as the ghostly moon,

As life´s roots born to entwine,

Be my forever Valentine.

SOUL:

LISTEN:

IT HEARS:

The tiptoeing gecko upon the window pane,

The silent screams of the gentle mute giraffe,

The coming of the floods before the first falling rain,

The smile of the unborn & the dead´s soundless laugh,

The desert dunes that quietly shift & glister,

The sun´s smile, the dewdrop´s birth & stars that blink,

The soft unheard voice of the moon-moth´s whisper,

The night snails chewing & the sipping of the birds as she dips & drinks,

It´s the soul.

SEEING:

IT SEES:

The unseen heat as it slowly burns & blisters,

The hour of unknown dying for one & all,

The womb within, knowing if holds brothers or sisters,

The distance judged before we stumble & fall,

The diamonds embraced beneath earth´s disguise,

The air riddled with chorus of unheard sounds,

The hidden treasures that betray men’s eyes,

The reasoning deep within the minds of hounds,

It ´s the soul.

SMELLS:

IT SMELLS:

The aroma of a day´s breath of fresh air,

The essence of life & the aura of man,

The odour of death, when stripped down bare,

The distant perfume of God´s vast plan,

The scents of waters in mountain streams,

The wafting air of the drifting kiss,

The tantalizing breath of exotic dreams,

The passing aromas of the ones we miss,

It´s the soul.

TASTE:

IT TASTES:

The almighty heaven & it´s manna sent,

The raindrops on drought´s thirsty plain,

The teardrops of the mother as she wept & bent,

The blood in the veins as it screeched in pain,

The uneaten morsel of the hungry child,

The promised kiss of the soldier dead,

The fruitless hunt of the prowling & wild,

The un-tasted flavours within your wary head,

It´s the soul.

TOUCH:

IT TOUCHES:

The softness of the angel’s wings,

The velvet cheek of the babe unborn,

The voice of the spider, as unheard, it sings,

The un-written page of love that is ripped & torn,

The heart as it lives & walks this earth,

The map of our destiny, as yet unseen,

The life & death from our very birth,

The very essence of all we’ve yet to glean,

It´s the soul.

SOUL:

The soul listens to all we do not want to hear,

The soul sees all we do not know is near,

The soul smells all non-existent perfumes,

The soul tastes nectar beyond tongues un-attuned,

The soul touches the un-touchable realm,

All un-reachable while we´re at the helm,

Listen-see-taste-touch your soul of old,

And you´ll unlock treasures abound & yet untold,

It´s the soul.

WE AS THE VINE:

In fertile soil, plump, fruitful, juicy & sweet,

Succulent, suspended from life´s strong bough,

Safe beneath heaven´s warm ripening orb,

We as the vine, clinging in love, digging in our feet.

Drought arrives, bringing slow cruel dying,

Love like the grape, dries, wrinkles & is sorely scorched,

Shriveled, clinging desperately to hope,

Weeping tears of wine in futile crying.

Will rain-filled clouds burst & save the hour?

In time to ripen our entwining bond & fruitful trust?

To bring forth lasting maturity & glinting heights?

Or will love die & the wine turn sour?