The Breeze

As the sun shone brightly on his morning he soaked up the soft warmth he received from the ultraviolet rays. In his personal bath of shine a zephyr moved over him and blew over his face.
It was a good morning.
A kind morning. A morning for him.

A Life

Maybe. . . Some day. . .
A life for you
A life for me
A life in a tree he he he he
For if life is short and love is burning then let us be as the world is turning
Together or apart is how we've been
But in the end we both shall win
For what was forged and what was found was not out of sight and not out of sound
Our hearts heard it and our hearts saw it
And brains read it and brains bought it
But. . .
We stand alone and are apart, to remain an ever vigilant work of art.  

The Color of Love

On his side on the universe he sat on a bar stool at his local restaurant and bar where he knew every staff member, cook and even shook the owner's hand on a regular basis. He stared off into the half empty glass of his beer, Yuengling, great stuff. Some days he wouldn't even bother keeping track of which number he was on. Today was one of those.

The Sound of Missing

It was not a question. He was certain of it.
The most romantic way he'd ever been kissed was at night, in the cool Texas air that February. While leaning on her open driver-side door window talking to her inside the white beast, the lady Cop, in mid-sentence she grabbed his shirt collar, yanked him to her face and thrust her lips onto his. And he was kissed hard and he was kissed well. And just before they connected, he caught her playful grin. . .

Because she asked me to

A heart can guide to the stars.

In the wind, no one can hear you thoughts.

But the wind can take them with it.

I feel my skin. I feel the years.

I feel the time. I feel the history.

Run my fingers through my hair and know what it feels like.

Silk. Tender.

I see the trees and hear the noise.

The wind as it whistles through the branches and passed the leaves.

I hear my friends. Their laughter and their stories.

Where am I?

A heart can uplift to the silver lining.

I feel the water on my skin, steaming and stimulating the atmosphere.

I hear the music, through my ears, and sticking to my brain.

I listen to it's touch and it's voice.

It fills me up and gives me hope.

It gives me blood and I drink from it's wine.

My muse?

I feel the sun upon my skin and see it's rays of light.

They brake through the trees and force passed the branches.

The heat fills the morning. The dew on the grass glistens in the light.

The grass shines like platinum.

It's dark at first.

But then it's warm.

A heart can make the skin seem hotter.

But then it's wet.

But then there's rushing.

There's breath.

And there's fire.

A heart makes the world seem richer.

A woman's smile can birth another.

I look around and know the world, I know there is more.

My heart is filling.

My eyes are big.

My body is a sponge.

A heart never fails to liven the body.

I know there is more...