I push the lacy clouds of dreams aside
And slowly rise up through my watery sleep
To find my lover sleeping by my side--
All curled up and in a great big heap.
The morning sun pours in and brings his face
To rest and dance quite softly on my breast
And also on the arm around my waist
That stirs and wakes as I move round in jest.
His handsome face turns toward me and I see
His pure delight at feeling silken skin
And, oh!  Fulfillment as he kisses me.
We wrestle gently and I almost win--
When suddenly I wake up with the taste
Of morning breath that’s on my teeth like paste.
 

Haikus

Gray sky, spiny arms.
Chilled to the core, breath smokes on
A crisp winter morn.

Scurry- hesitate
Gray squirrel looking up at me.
“Hurry home.” He goes.

Endless even lights
On tall stark brick buildings say
Welcome home-- my dorm.
 

Over (Free Verse)

A sweet lemony, lanolin scent
Is radiating from
My new candle,
Reminding me of you
And the way you smell
When I cradle your head in my arms.
I lean
Over
And sniff your curly hair.
Like a baby you sleep--
Curled up in a ball.
My baby!
And I lean
Over
And sniff my new candle again.

 
Sestina

At five, my alarm rings and I see red.
I don’t want to miss it so my orange
Slippers go on my feet and my yellow
Robe comes too.  When I wake him I see green
Sleep- drunk eyes staring into the gray-blue
of my own-- he joins me in the violet

Darkness, and to dispel the strange violet
Of our dreams, we watch the cold stove grow red
And our haze diminishes to a blue.
I crack an egg and we watch the orange
Yolk hop and then bubble in the cheep green
Skillet we received in a strange yellow

Box for our marriage-- which was a yellow
Affair, with a hint of fresh picked violet.
We were married on his parents bright green
Lawn-- and his favorite aunt showed up in red
Taffia with a new hat-- It was orange!
Ah, yes.  On that day no one was blue.

But back to the task at hand, for the blue
Is creeping into the sky and yellow
Eggs might burn so we serve them on orange
Plastic plates me dear friend from work, Violet,
Gave me when she split with her husband Red.
He was too jealous-- indeed he was green

With it.  And we talk of him at our green
Table, and Brian looks into my blue
Eyes and swears he will never be like Red.
So to lighten the mood I fling yellow
Eggs at him-- he catches them with Violet’s
Plate and then throws that at me!  The orange

Discus sails by and I grab an orange
As ammunition and he takes a green
Pear and we fall laughing on the violet
linoleum and we almost turn blue
Until I stop and see a faint yellow
Glow.  We jump up and I grab me new red

Coat and we watch the sky go violet-red
To hints of green with beautiful yellow
And orange streaks-- finally the sky turns blue.

 
Villanelle

The rain pours down surrounding gramps and me
He readjusts and softly strokes my hair.
In this small shell safe will I ever be.

Behind us is the kitchen-- warm yet neat.
I smell the sourdough bread we made in there.
The rain pours down surrounding gramps and me.

A flock of ducky fly by us and we see
The one’s we’ve named-- there’s Harvey, Jack and Claire.
In this small shell safe will I ever be.

He starts to push the old porch swing, and me--
I at the rusty creaking parts do stare.
The rain pours down surrounding gramps and me.

We look out at the bayou and we see
The dock and the old pump just standing there.
In this small shell safe will I ever  be.

Clear drops of water cling to Papa C--
For he’s the glass and I’m the scotch he shares.
The rain pours down surrounding gramps and me;
In this small shell safe will I ever be.
 

Italian Sonnet

I’m walking down the street and thinking free
When two young lovers hugging fill my sight--
Or maybe just a man who in the light
Resembles him who is a part of me.
The recollection that we cannot be
Together burns my heart like dry ice might.
The awful scathing cold with my warmth fights--
This frostbite fills my heart with agony.
What can we do to rid ourselves of this
Hard separation?  Nothing can be done
Right now to regain all our former bliss.
Together we must stick it out-- What comes
Will only make us stronger.  So you miss
Me now, but four more years will bring us fun.
 
Ode to a Winter Morning

Cold gray light filters into my dark room
I peel the cover off-- the cold hits me
Like cold wet cabbage in the face, and soon
I’m chilled with it’s gray  slime-- so I make tea,
Pull on my coat, and watch the morning come.
No gorgeous sunset to behold, just stark
Defining of the trees.  This light and dark
Play mimics squirrels who gather nuts and some
Who dart among the trees-- and then a bird
Begins to sing-- now this is most absurd.

My fingers reach into her room-- she starts
To move and frowns at me like I am why
She’s cold.  So she makes tea and then she carts
Herself outside to watch me rise-- but I
Refuse to give to this ungrateful girl
The glories that I usually perform.
Instead she watches gray like from a torn
Old rag come to the sky.  She winds a curl
Around her finger and is startled by
A bird-- I wish she would go back inside.

I watch them-- they that used to be in love
They spar and fight-- yet no one ever wins.
The woman is too stubborn-- like the sun!
While in the spring and summer they remain
Inseparable-- like clouds are from the rain.
Love comes in cycles-- now I think I see
The fights make making up a joy.
But that joy does not show eternal love.

 
Pantoum

My high school graduation was
A farce to say the best of it.
The controversy I endured
Was not appeased by my solo.

A farce to say the best of it--
I did not care that I was tied
With rich Jon Snyder who despised
Me for obtaining Val with him.

I did not care that I was tied.
Jon’s parents cared-- and so did Jon.
So they complained to Headmaster
Belzano who decided that since

Jon’s parents cared-- and so did Jon--
He fiddled round with GPA’s
And I was number two but then
The parents of the Sal complained.

He fiddled round with GPA’s
He took out all my former grades
From my old high school (which were “B”’s)
That should have helped my GPA.

He took out all my former grades.
He would not let me see how they
Recalculated GPA’s
The students signed petitions but

He would not let me see how they--
I guess that money speaks louder
Than grades, deciding on the Val.
They let me play a solo, but

I guess that money speaks louder.
It was a valuable lesson.
My high school graduation was
A farce to say the best of it.

 
Ballad

Our bravely brave Veronica
Had Calculus at eight.
Two tests had proved she knew her stuff;
The third was not that great.

Her eighty-one and eighty could
Not cancel fifty-six.
Her only chance of savior would
Be the exam to fix.

But savior was not in her mind--
She strove to get a “B”.
For two whole weeks she never whined
And only did study.

Work and volume, p-series,
Maclauren, root test, shells. . .
These formulas did hold the key
For the exam from hell.

And so she studied hard and long--
She lived on coffee beans.
And when the test day came along
Our heroine was seen.

She mightily picked up her pen
And calculator, too.
They say she turned her final in
The second it was due.

Stark raving mad she ran away
And no-one’s seen her yet.
Some think that you can hear her say
“x2 goes to 2x.”

And so my fellow college friends
Take heed of my advice.
On coffee beans do not depend--
Exams are not your life!