It is music 
it’s always been 
just about music
whether it be 
played sung or
heard it’s always 
been about music 
music seduces it
swells it pauses
and begins again 
over and over 
on and on
it sings sweetly 
like honeysuckle caught 
on summer’s breeze
it dances tenderly 
like lavender and 
lilac on those 
first few warm 
days of spring 
it is music
this love is
that we pursue 
and we also 
hope to keep 

Usually how we
feel about one 
thing we feel 
about other things 
for me I
need time to 
fall in love 
with person place 
and thing I
need to settle 
in before I 
can ever settle 
on and this 
patience irritates most 
but before I 
ever can I
must know that 
I forever will 

Some mornings 
it’s whistle 
sometimes horn
calling me 
to come 
to emerge 
from sleeps
fog to 
make way 
to think 
and let
come words
back to 
port plump
with riches
treasures and 
sweet spice 
and I
will tell 
of journeys 
far away 
places and 
of people 
and they
will call 
me adventurer

Sitting here 
in dark
Chopin plays
then Bach
watch ticks
and I 
being none 
hear all
as reminders 
that I’m 
not alone 
in these
early hours
when I 
have words
my friends 
to write 

Yes he said 
yes I remember 
yes I did 
I still do 
so we will 
the next time 
because we never 
did last time 
because life did
as life does 
we had things 
to learn first 
funny this now 
after all that 
we’re right back 
at the same 
place as before 
I guess this 
is love then
we knew it 
before and now