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18.

Road Poet Poetry

Joe

 A TREE, A FLOWER

The giant trees of redwood, with trunks forever high,

While tiny budding crocus, murmur tender sighs.

The tiny crocus bloom at times, so often colors bright,

While mighty redwoods turn each day to softened dark of night.

 

Like many a delicate flower, that bloom from light of day,

Within the dawn of now, at night they curl away.

The canopy of redwood leaf, allowing rays of light,

Give the flowering floor at dawn, a visual surreal sight.

---

AWAKE

 

With tussled hair and head nestled upon a pillow of down,

Slowly, ever so slowly, she stirs from evening slumber,

To gaze into the soul, with closed eyes silent expression.

In quiet morning stillness only an awakening breath is heard,

Just the slightest of sound from her golden throat greets.

 

With eyes opening as slow as a rising sun upon daybreak,

The dawn of morning becomes visible, a slumber usurped,

Daylight, flowering within scintillating blue eyes.

Seductively piercing mankind's very soul with an enchanting gaze,

Sapping the strength of certainty from life, overwhelming.

 

With gentle willingness turns toward evenings warmth.

The gentle curve of this back lay before wanton eyes, soft, vulnerable,

Strong but tender fingers glide over cool, warm, responsive skin.

A single breast, exposed, sought by eyes the vermilion flower,

Aroused with a warmhearted kiss from mornings essence.

 

A soft foot caresses satiny skin, a gesture of response,

Arms curled around oneself, needing comfort of another,

Gliding against a back of down, clutching mornings desire.

Flushed breath can be heard, a sign of enlivening spirit,

The warmth of a contoured back nestles ardent loins.

 

Fingers walk among the hills, plains and caverns,

Mindful of the grassland and a sweet moisten,

Coercing the aqueous from deep within this body, this desire.

Quickening breath is captured by surrounding passion,

What is to pass is deliverance, heartwarming, carnal.

---

SOMEWHERE

 

While others are on their voyage of purpose,

I relax and savor the journey.

---

OCEANS

 

Magnificent oceans, ill-tempered, constantly abused,

Tears flow from eyes unable to behold it’s splendor.

Truly spectacular coastal sunrises, resplendent sunsets,

Bountiful harvests of life were oceans, yet no more.

 

Often bleak waters flaunt an ire of disdain,

Eighty foot seas, danger, anguish, contempt, survival.

Hours of sleeplessness, gut wrenching fear a constant companion,

Bitter cold enhances the essence of winter, of sea, of gale.

 

Oh to have warm summer breezes and gentle currents,

Thunderous ear piercing surges, waves crash, a lathered sea.

Morning winter winds sting flesh, awaken somnolent senses,

Air, refreshingly clean, stimulates a bewildered spirit.

 

Sound evaporates in vast emptiness of serene calm,

Grand Bank winter’s paradox of serenity, timelessness, tranquility.

Never returned to warmth of womb, only memory,

Sovereign oceans, such carnage, inhabited not by man.

 

Gentile leviathans in perfect symmetry with their environment,

Such extraordinary creatures, ballerinas, virtuosos.

Life confused, how wonderful are creatures of land,

Observing from a universal vantage point, the creation, the demise, rebirth.

 

That's all Folks

-Joe