Wednesday, April 28, 2010


My words fell in love
With his music:
Head-over-heels in love.
Like the golden rain from above
That sprouts the seeds in my loamy lands,
To flourish in lush black
On stark white fields,
His music let my poetry
Out of the cage,
And together they flew,
Into the eternal blue;
Love knows no season, no age.

My words danced in joy
At the footfall of his voice,
They trembled at its silken touch;
My lines to life sprang
When he unknowing sang,
My poetry that much
Did his music love.

A beautiful rhapsody
With no beginning, no end-
With him around,
Life was ever a song;
A happy couple they were,
His music and my poetry;
And though I knew
It couldn’t last long,
While it did, they truly loved,
His music and my poetry.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Silence at Supper

Of late, she noticed,
He always complained:
She was either
Too sweet,
Or too sour;
Too spicy,
Or too bland;
Too dry,
Or too greasy;
Too sharp,
Or too salty;
Too hot,
Or too cold;
Too raw,
Or over-cooked;
Too heavy,
Or too light;
She never was
Just right.

And now he sat
Staring at the soup
She'd served;
Staring beyond the bowl,
Beyond the room,
Beyond their home,
Beyond her.

"Is the salt right?"
She asked quietly.
"Yea, just right,"
He mumbled,
Spooning it up,
His eyes still
On the just-right soup-
Staring beyond the bowl,
Beyond the room,
Beyond their home,
Beyond her.

And she knew why
She never was
Just right.

She saw night fall,
Fast and heavy,
Like the silence

Thus sat the two,
Three shadows
Danced on the wall.