Read Poems by
A Tulip Grows Under An Evergreen
in vibrant intensities
with unique undertones
of green acquirable only in a
few forests. A ruby red swirls within
its petals beckons awareness of those very
strokes that live in the lustre of your shapely lips
like fantasy realized. Mirthful yellows in all those lacquers
barely ever seen as one would scorch their eyes to gaze lastingly
directly at the Sun - though I have been fortunate to witness identical
iridescence in strands of your hair you unintentionally flip and like dainty
fingers wave me on to move closer to your flawless frame - memorized easily.
paints the flower they
say exists only in certain
singular gemstones yet l know
this tincture for I have seen it in your
cheeks when we play and laugh. Oh your
laugh how it fills me - replacing noise surfing
the waves of sound in the surrounding atmosphere.
How enchanting when your laughter there - dwells to
tickle molecules invisible to the eyes but felt by the human
heart. Parrot tulips with their soft myriad shades become stunning
against a deep black backdrop which shimmers bright like your ebony eyes.
Sparkle like your smile and I grin happily just thinking of you, just thinking of us.
white that also
adorns the flower a
special light effect I have
found in your complexion - dazzles
my mind each and every time I see you.
Parrot tulips a miracle of nature, a special
breed I admit are as remarkable as any offering
that grows in our gardens but rarer still - you the flower
I share my life with. No one, no thing, no life compares to you,
your approach - for every time I even think of you, the joy it brings
completes the meaning of my existence full. If not for you no other delight
would have that extra zest I feel from the sharing of your love and light always.
what joy it
brings. How the flower
draws these words from
me. Ironic how true allure felt
fills our glass so I thought I'd share
with you how it uplifts my days - knowing
confident in our love as one - you'd never resent
me speaking of an elegance other than yours. So you may
know - understand what the fibres of ones constitution compels
them to write. Now - about a mystique other than the one you sport with
humility. Finally I have written a poem on aesthetics that does not mention you.
Just above and
beneath the dirt grows
riches unimaginable. Made to
be absorbed by senses recognizable
only by a few. They are free for the taking.
An appreciation, a love of a natural essence.
A flower, a person, romance you breathe incomparable
to anything real or imagined. It alone are the wings we humans
seek...as real and as precious as all else consumable. How lucky I
am the magic handed out daily on these pages. The people I could never
find anywhere else then here. I am in love with their words in love with them.
the re frain
is a par r a
ot tu lip m
hid d a
en u j
r r r r
o o oo
o o o o
t tt t
s s s s
r r r r
o o o o
o o o o
t t t t
s s s s
April 27 2015