Thursday, November 24, 2005


A Writer writes,
He loves in words

I see your face
the pictures various
like snapshots,
a gallery.

Nature surrounds
you, crouching
studying the creek bed,
a little delight.

The ripples move across
your smile.
Fishes become you.

When I`m with you
nature becomes backdrop
staging, the scenery
to your Gestalt.

The look of you
lying next to me
sated, plenteous.

Your lips invite me,
eyes closed, restful.
My tongue nears your ear
speaks to you.

Can you hear me
speaking through my tongue,
a language I`ve seldom shared,
the taste of you, a whisper.