Sun Bleached Dashboards

Oh Florida

I need those palm trees
And that warm humid breeze
The salt waters on the gulf
Even the tourists have forgotten
That even at oceans bottom
Smooth sands of Florida
Will remain to be
Those hot days with no reprieve
Sun bleached dashboards
The geriatric community agrees
That on a warm summers night
In September
We await the cool fall eaves of late November
And that is what Florida will always remain to me

Swollen Hands

Her heart has more love to give

Then I’ll ever know

Her heart has more love to give

And she’s growing old

Time can harden your heart

Break you apart

And turn it into sand

With weary eyes

And weathered lines

No one would understand

These eyes see the world

Felt the knife slide through

Her swollen hand

Call the birds

Forget yourself

Put your ambitions on the shelf

No way to live

Don’t ask but give

Breeding nothing but bitterness within

 –

This heart has more love to give

Then I’ll ever know

This heart has more love to give

And we are growing old

When things get bad around you

Walls falling down too

I know what she’ll do

She will start again

With some new friends

A new life so far from the bends

Make her way

Cutting off the slack

Far away and never looking back

Then one day

She will turn and say

Things were never quite the same

She will know

That in her soul

Pain fades but never grows old

A Floral Confit or Rose Scented Turpentine

Pink and green

Seaweed green

Sunset pink

With a cup of water to drink

Bent glass in subtle ways

The beauty lasts for only days

Velvet touch

Burnt under glow

Pedal gentle

Summer tone

Resting peacefully

Under gravity’s pull

Drink the water

Until the stem is full

Grasping life

With both hands

Passing time

With falling sand

The clock calls out

With subtle hues

But brings great joy

Until it’s time is due

But with beauty laughter

And laughter joy

Summers gift

Nature’s toy

Time is not infinite

Space not confined

Rose scented turpentine

Joy and fresh

These are the treats

From the flower blooms

Upon eyes a floral confit