Poetry
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The Face
As I move my head backjust a few inchesTowards the open doorI see her face againBefore I continueDown the hallwayInto the awaiting day.And for an instantOne magnificent instantThere is pure joyDancing in her eyesPirouetting along the curvaturesof her tender smileThat powers the morningDrive and strips away the mundaneWork and ordinary tasksSo that when the evening sun returnsPainting the horizonWith hints of lavenderAnd laughterThe closed door opensAnd I find myself againin the overwhelming presenceOf the face of love
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New Roads Home
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New Roads Home
I like taking new routes home especially roads I’ve never taken before on clear nights Tonight the sky looks like Crystals Diamonds Sparkling beyond the trees And I’m driving home From Kentucky and a sign says, “Golden Bayou” Who are they kidding? it’s just a creepy swamp And I’ve never felt an affinity for creepy swamps at night. But, tonight I’m going home a different way It’s late and I’m tired My eyes refuse to stay open So, I’m listening to every song on my iPhone’s playlist Every single one! Who does that? Large amounts of caffeine, Taylor Smith, and Three Dog Night Or is it Swift? I’m too tired…
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The Face