she pencil thin moments

she pencil thin moments pack a present peace no stern feelings
yet regard for something lean a miracle of groupings right off the
starboard bow and hear the most fine tuning will get to her somehow in borrowed embargo a bless-ed vow-
to lift the grip regretted strife to widen hugs as thoughts decide someway to shift so sweet survive I will not blame your milk white
perchance a dance a sweet amour would welcome you so soon
the shore you much adore a wealth of health a fisher fly across the coast where boats
boast of the tide
around the bluffs near lies today the grasses long in languid sway
there in the pockets of the banks then starlings nest as out to sea
the daring tanks aloud I whisper off the pier come back to me
I’ll harbor you my dear.

music for the muse

barren beach below snow covered sand
sun over the yardarm rue the stew Dinty Moore
fish the fish wriggle worm lure the lurid splash
diver bubble bends trouble murky brine
old boats sail away never die
fore aft Chris Craft hull and kisses
cast the mast crow’s nest rest witches
give it up for lent lofty wishes
bent spent cent sense solitude
watery green Goddess of Neptune
hurl the world submerge submit
an aging bloom
beckon second seldom clouds
rain a strain of Strauss
music for the muse
coming out of her blouse
glassy eyes descend
hide hidden harmonic heretic
reduce speed delicate for the benefit
of merriment
let there be
incredulous contentment
white street of Gloucester by the sea.

a Januaury song

saving days from raving crazy train wrecks dazed
plodding the wobble of sadness sobbing
increased the senseless sorrow that never seems to cease
the sensitive sympathetic softly sighing silence listening
soon the moon sweeps tides from wells of wishing
the east end best for bottom fishing
test lines fly the boats and brine the harbor sky misting
tugboats call their foghorns blare
a January song a winters tale.