Tag: poem

The hot sun sits
unsated on our skin,
My desert rose,
just one or two steps more.
In land of sand and sea,
there’s loving.
There’s living
in the name
of myrth and myrrh.

Somewhere in the birches
we would wander;
A [sometimes] day of
letting go with me.
Nature simply
has no lack of wonder;
A losing of
the forests for the trees.

Nothing warms my home when days are cold;
On rainy nights
my soul, no one to hold.
Not Pumpkin spice,
Not autumn leaves of gold;
Only her perfume,
which sweetly lingers still
on my clothes.

The dark blue junipers,
now unreserved,
Awakened by the melt
of winter’s ice.
With hearts of sandalwood
they’ll be preserved,
If memories of warmth
might be lived twice.

Somewhere between
the first aroma on a rainy day
and the final sip before work
I’ll savor the flavor of a dark espresso
and scribble the words of
a pretend poet.