The Hills Are Dreaming of Daffodils

[Marksman45]

I just compiled a poetry chapbook entitled "The Hills Are Dreaming of Daffodils." I'll be posting on the Announcements board when it's ready to sell, but for now I thought I'd share some pieces from it.

no. 24

The hills are dreaming of daffodils
under a long slow breeze.
The lake is sighing,
for the snows will be coming
and the trees waltz off their leaves
Autumn is breathing
a faint umber spice blend

The daffodils are dreaming of hands
that pick them
and hold them against hearts,
hearts that breathe Spring,
a sweet white wine

~-~

no. 26

When you are gone from me,
I know that you will be gone forever.
So I'll let the rain come.

I'll open my window
and the raindrops will mirror my eyes
and my eyes will mirror your memory
and I'll say "Rain on."

So rain on.
Rain on.

~-~

Keep, Cut

Pass the bottle,
Pour the wine
Set the sun now, I say it is time
draw your tongue back down to earth
and listen to this song of nothing.
And I drink myself through the mirrorglass,
and I can see where I've changed.
With new hues and new words,
I will write a new road
-- Keep the rhyme, Cut the time
Talking to myself.

Yes, I saw myself,
Myself in my reflection,
so I thought about it.
I broke the box wide open,
the old sea of letters spilling out;
I drowned in that sea once.
I think I'll bury them.
-- Keep the rhyme, Cut the time
Singing to myself.

This little stone,
This little bone
And two holes that must be filled
or so I thought,
so I said.
But that wasn't quite me:
seed to a tree
And I buried your letters so long ago.
-- Keep the rhyme, Cut the time
Whispering to myself.

~-~

The First Time

Do you remember
that night when we kissed by the lake?
(we meant to watch the sunset, but missed it)
I fell asleep in your arms.

And in the morning,
when the birds were singing
and the first thing I saw
was your eyes a-shining,
catching the glimmer of the sunrise on the waves
(and neither of us spoke,
'cause there was no need to)
and -- you know how I believe that there are moments
that are eternities within themselves?
That was one of them.

well, that morning
was like waking up
for the first time.

(I hope it's not the last time)

~-~

Ice Piano

Your eyes have blue diamonds in them with silver shores.
Thoughts of you are warm.
They thaw the ice piano
and it wants to play, wants to sing,
wants to bathe alive in spring
and the energy wells and wells
It makes me want to hold someone
but it wouldn't be right
if they weren't you

I'd like you to hear the thawed piano
and dripping icicle guitar.
The water makes dry fields moist,
and I can use them again
so if I come home empty-handed
I still have wheat in the fields

And I'd like to feel your fire closer,
put the piano right ablaze.
Make elemental jazz.
On your lips.
In my heart.