Best Complimentary Poems

When I saw that young muscular man 
standing, hand on hip, in the driveway
four flights down from our balcony,
I was instantly attracted before I
realized it...

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O glorious Autumn of melancholic 
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest...

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Let’s begin with
A strong fresh
Brewed Greek coffee
The aroma alone,
Will wake up 
Your senses, 
Allow you to
Let go, to keep 
An open mind to delight
And excite...

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The Air We Breathe

Whatever death hides in the dark forest?
The Man attentive to death-defying chances
with sinister low sweeping branches, strong
confused as to the hierarchical level
upon...

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How do you define love?
I mean what is it really,

How can I feel so much love for so many 
people here that I barely know 
...because I...

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Amidst this greenery and purple heather
Azure blue skies grace our naked souls
Beneath the Cullins on the Isle of Skye
Two in love sharing adventurous goals

On our...

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I do not love for love,
Nor will I hate for hate.
Cannot, I, feel for you,
To just reciprocate.
Unflattering as is,
Unempathetic me,
An honest truth still is
Most complimentary....

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Please, Please, Please proceed to exit left stage,
Or at least make this battle worth my time.
Every word, forming every rhyme,
Tells me that your "thoughts" belong...

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** Devotion Poem, VANTAGE POINTS **
(For Jim. #17 in Devotion Poem Series)

“I’m not a romantic,”
   you announced at the very beginning
With a side-flick...

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‘Do I look good in this and I want the honest truth?’
‘Well honey it would help if you stepped outside the booth.’
‘The zip’s a little...

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The leaves of the fern
Begin the rhythm of the forest.
The music of the woodland floor
Pulsates to the rise of the sun.

The morning...mists dissipate in silent...

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Whittchurch picnic, favorite days with my relatives,
Many years ago, a beautiful picnic by the lake.

We had a nice picnic table by the lake,
Our brother Tom...

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This is merely an outlet, to banish my thoughts
I have no expectation that my views will be bought

My mind is a realm, built of colorful...

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Grandpa was a Bowie.
A tight-lipped protestant Ulsterman
who drifted into the Poblacht na hÉireann
in search of a cure for his cold heart.

His thin lips wed a...

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As I sit back at watch the world become depraved
I think about the one foot I have in this instagrave
The countless angles, of shoot after...

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