It seems to me, that the great sea
Is breathing.
And softly
So softly
The fine rhythms go.

And yet now
As I bow to the clouds
As I’m leaving

You roar
At the shore

Somehow, someday, no matter how hard the way
I will find you, there
Sit with you a while, and share
A memory or two.

About our lives
We shall talk, and of all those things

There you were just thinking
That YOU, were the only one that mattered
That; YOUR pain, had somehow gained a place above the rest.

Nothing as close as death has ever beset your soul

The sun is beginning to kiss my skin, all over
As the summer yields its deliciousness, upon us.

Naked; just you and I
Tread Side by side, upon these golden sands.

As night is creeping past
I feel your slender hands sweep up my thighs.

Down here, upon our bed of soft sand
I am weaving my calves 'round your side.

I pass by; the cruellest lake I have ever seen.

The forests taunt me with their pointy horns, and
Devilish trees; look on, as they assemble notes.

Oh! What has become of the fairies?
All the goblins...the elves...And the gnomes...?

So precariously still, do I wander
For I have, not a place to call home.

I saw him in the distance
Both his legs had lost resistance

For he slammed into the flan
He kneaded; bakery assistance.

© Deborah Gordon 2008

He kissed her
And she kissed him

And then the bleeding world joined in.

With kisses here!
And kisses there!
And kisses, flipping through the air!

My god, they really puckered up

The skies; They keep on altering their ways
As I fly high, through mists and haze.

The green
Green
Grass
Of England waves
Then off! Toward uncertain days.

Lead me to the oceans deep
Where oysters tremble at my feet.

Where love is found amidst the waves
And lapwings veer, beyond the braves.

Where thongweed cup my curves within

For an instant I glance,
Upon a puddle in the marsh. It
Reminds me of your love; green,
Grey, globs of fog drenched moments.
Between the knapweed and the nestles

Goodbye, my young love
Well...Bye bye

Do not weep, as they take you away.

You shall fly to the lands
Of most, radiant sands
On the cool of the pools, you shall sway.

Fat men sit in pairs
With greyish tongues, that flop.

Eyes
Peruse the sands for legs
For round obeying pulsing breasts.

Their plums; they run amok;
So wild!

What if?

All evil forces
Gathered to conspire against
'All good’ and everything we hold
To be just and true in this very lifetime?

What if…?

All the angels and holy beings