The hope of
and hope to
hops gaily about
tickling me like
tiny little fingers
making me giggle
at every turn
and hum too
quiet little symphonies
of maybe of’s
and maybe to’s
and the glow
that others notice
like small candles
lit behind eyes
and twinkling stars
seen from afar
Category: Poetry
Ah
Ah yes that
that thing song
or look that
thing which brings
things to where
near or far
nothing else does
anything like that
Cups
I wake early
and slide out
like feet from
sandals on beach
starting my familiar
march through home
ending in kitchen
pot water cup
coming right up
hot taupe elixir
sure to sweep
sleeps dust into
the far corners
returning with two
one for me
one for you
Snow
And like sleet
snow that starts
as sleepy rain
going through movements
before it becomes
the white dance
trickling then tickling
tippy taps against
my window teasing
you in bed
first under covers
chilly moving close
taking land giving
some giving little
giving less we
become then melt
just like that
would be snow
Bits
I will remember
bits of you
your smell which
hangs in every
room like evergreen
at the holidays
your taste which
lingers like a
gumdrop long dissolved
your feel like
silk in summer
and flannel in
fall and your
touch light like
a butterfly rough
like grit paper
pleasing like a
blanket pulled up
to chin warding
off chilly naps
these I will
promise I will
