Blithe wonder - out of love's lotus caring
for some special spirits who helped us
when we tried to do what was felt necessary;

then and now - impossibly righting and continuing,
enduring - with some new spectacles discreetly
listening for whatever there is to be understood;

sympathetically and thus synchronously
to be manifested, nurtured, furthered.

*   *   *

"What I wanted to see,
you know I never could have found without you;
that little bit of coal and Cain
that would have gotten so much worse
had someone not rediscovered music."

"Such a delight staying on top of it
regardless of what I might have
thought about this before!"

*    *   *

A simple little blue cup of tea,
drunk on a sunlit morning
by a true knight's lady;

a dish of pansies, a
a hand wrought rug,
the constancy within sight
of a proper wall, well spoken of.

*   *   *

"Perhaps it IS best
if you just stick to the melody,
and leave the key remarks
to the facticity of what is meant
by the gesture you make
when you determine that the breeze
could be more favorable
if the cracked window was fully opened
unto this green and shadowed courtyard."

*   *   *

Two pears upon the table,
silently sliced and eaten with tea;
the opened rose which he brought
along on his latest return.

The beauty poses for her lord,
her long tartan sweeps to the floor,

as she sits -- he nestles the memories
of battles' crimson kisses.

*   *   *

“Whatever occurs to you, my  Fig,
let us not forget
our conspiracy of tea.”

“Whatever becomes of us, my  Peach,
let us not forget the simple candor
of my  empty cup!”