I confess

House of Heart

This is not meant for you
although you were there
from a distance.
I am what I have always been,
my throat sticky with
an elixir of words.
I stand before the ocean,
an exotic bird, wings open
wide to a summer storm.
Unlike the shore I will not erode
like patience if it ever was.
Washed up on a restless shore
when I knocked you opened the door.
Now, like the pearly sand below my feet
I carry no burden save love.

Steve Hanks art

borrowed from Pinterest

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bubbles of love

The Lonely Author

I would like to dedicate this to my muse, if I had one, but I don’t.  So, I won’t.   (Wink Wink)

bubbles of love

Soaking in an effervescent tub
of your warm poetry
tiny inspirations
burst all around me
Sparkling suds of passion
cleanse my soul
of the unsightly stains
of dirty lovers
and tainted memories
For you are the nymphet
of my passions
a sensual siren of sonnets
The warm bath
that never goes cold
Now I find myself
submerged in your verses
blissfully drowning
in the fountain
of your never ending
bubbles of love

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