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JOURNAL #9 such sweet sweet eyes
the color of a most impossible blue
why, with the highest hat of poetry
I tip it just for you
for leaning down to speak with such an honest fire in
your shepherd's watchful eyes
all I could recall to think of were summer morning meadow
larks in bright blazing skies
a true tester of turbulent waters yet to be tried
or perhaps a private burning of lush forest fires shown
by a rather reticent guide
surprise is after all just another of nature's eager
children thrilled to simply be taking part
in at best a most mysterious game that started out as an
unplanned almost secret promise relying solely upon
the amateurs heart
in a brief moment of madness I gave chase to my deepest
yet before unshared prayer
that this warm feeling of cleverly baited clues will work out
some day soon and not just give breath yet again to more of
my generous poetic flair..........
( written March 28, 1993 am)
