Shall I begin with your rare hair

Heaven to press my face against?

Eyes to bring me to despair...

Well! A fair spring Monday morn and you are here 

And there’s a bustle – ‘getting on with things’

Maybe today, this week...

I looked in, saw you washing your hair,

Kneeling, turning head side to side

To catch the shower jets...

Thank you for the daffodils 

Standing in their pewter vase

Pointing to heaven and the stars...

This to the girl with the world on her shoulders

(Family, work, all the problems that press)

I love you...

Mind dark and scattered – 

Thoughts all over the place – 

As if it mattered...

Allie is a lass that must surpass

The highest hopes of lost man’s longing 

I’d long have been put out to grass...

I have prayed – it is not my survival

Alone I pray for that would make no sense – 

I am joined...

One pansy in a window box 

Addresses several others

She nods and waves her head about...

Oh, long the day you are not near!

Though there’s no cloud the sun is dim

How long the day where you’re not here...