Mata Hari

Her voice sung like pieces of ice
Falling into a sudden crystalline perfection
And the sway of her hips coiled
With a hypnotic snake’s vengeance
But her eyes held langour and mystery —
The calm, knowing gaze of a deity

Follow

The world is too beautiful
To think of loneliness
When the sun shines high
Embracing all of Earth
And the flowers profess scarlet adoration
And the birds beg for scraps
To feed hungry mouths and line their nests
When even the wind is like a child
Musing your hair and racing away
Singing come follow —
There is love beyond the horizon

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Wood Thrush

The voices that fade away
And the smiles that turn into looks of derision
For affection to be met by anger
And goodwill viewed with suspicion
When I am tired of humanity
When I am tired of being human
I listen to the wood thrush’s song
Who sings so beautifully, even alone

Ephemeral

On the wind, the scent of spring
A bed of littered sakura
The hawk strangles his prey;
Death beneath beauty

Magnolia

The magnolia blossoms with pink blushes
Nestled within petals of ivory
Recall to me the romantic notion
Of ladies with porcelain complexions
Coyly staring behind the languid twists
Of wrist to fan, and fan to the bright corners of
Lips amused distantly by their admirers