Penelope

I watch the glistening stars
waiting for thy presence
thy brown eyes
a pulse through the universe
bound
connected
to ne’r be smothered
infinitely
Penelope

be mine

Distraught

distraught
I was
I fought
my thoughts
my memories
of disagrees
worries
of fees
and foes
I suppose
I took
my time
and drank
some wine
emptied bottles
emptying me
distraught
I fought
I won
and now
I’m free

Mrs Khan

Mrs Khan
had a nasty man
who hit her hard
with a frying pan

he made her weep
and make her sleep
outside with the mice
in a garbage can

she ran away
to the USA
moved to a town
it was called Bomb Bay

there she met
her soulmate me
who made her smile
and feel happy

A courtyard of stone

an old man
playing a violin
devotes
his melancholy notes
to the sun
a blue sky
and a few birds
passing by
whilst forgotten chansons
echo off the walls
of shut shops
beneath a plane tree
almost alone
he brings tears
and joy
to a courtyard of stone

Women

perfect
creations
of a creative
god
creating
precious
pure
emotional
curvy
beings
shining
light
perpetually
yet sometimes
a tad whiny
perhaps regretfully

Stride

regarding my eventful stride
in the garden of perception
I ponder
and wonder
how I ended up
down yonder
believing fate
would caress my inner
conspicuous alteration
of thoughtful contemplation
that opens
and shuts shutters
of my ever vivid imagination