1.
Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.
2.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
......
When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the black spit of the chapel fold,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women),
I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood,
The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit,
I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled
Nine-pin down on donkey's common,
And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed
Whoever I would with my wicked eyes,
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
......
I
1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
......
I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.
......
Red robin has long been singing, amidst a forest green spring,
In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Warbling to a blooming world unseen, hues coming and going.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer.
In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Satiny voiced red robin sings, while grazing the cream clouds.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer;
And all of nature's lovely crowds, are wrapt in dusky shrouds.
......
Red robin has long been singing, amidst a forest green spring,
In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Warbling to a blooming world unseen, hues coming and going.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer.
In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Satiny voiced red robin sings, while grazing the cream clouds.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer;
And all of nature's lovely crowds, are wrapt in dusky shrouds.
......
Deepest darkest reds
crimson guest in the roses
of the same rich hue.
Flowers and plumed cardinal
interact through scents and song.
Vivid green summer
showers gold on scarlet lane-
forever moments!
Bush concert at my window
......
I was an essential nature photographer, very deeply immersed in my work,
Exploring leafy, wild green mansions, in the sunlit halls where beauty lurks.
I had always enjoyed natural pursuits, like minty trees reach for blue skies,
Enjoying the caress of amber sunshine, in the hours of magenta butterflies.
I loved capturing beauty all about me, from seemingly endless abundance,
Ranging from capped mountains, to still valleys, in unrestrained indulgence.
I took my camera everywhere I went, so I'd never miss a perfect moment,
......
I was a professional landscaper, with passion for nature, and a green thumb,
Like passions of smothering, dreamy nighttime, to which we gladly succumb.
My work took me to many gardens, set in the butterscotch zones of summer,
As the music with its rhythmic beat, benefits from an accomplished drummer.
I loved being able to generate beauty, with the help of lavish, Mother Nature,
Whose colors are always perfectly matched and blended, through hush labor.
I enjoyed my own house's gardens, my pretty haven, of most adored flowers,
......
Fruits of a long day
black cherries in sundown skies
Then deep purple night
We've long loved the sun
but now greet dusky shadows
The platinum moon
sends rich luster from afar
in the wild rose phase
The birds have not sung lately
......