did he know

Did he know when he bought her the scooter

That there would be chipped teeth or

Scraped knees?

Given in innocence, how could he have guessed

There would be tears and scars?

If there were a god

If there were a god, he would have made

The rains to fall overnight, while farmers slept,

Gentle drops that would not ruffle the plantings,

The snow would blanket the ground in the wee hours,

Beauty that is not treacherous for walking or riding,

But still lets our children experience the awe of  gliding
down hills,

The amazing rush of sledding in the mild cool winds

Life is not real

Life is not real, he says

Because it's so ephemeral?

Because all things come to an end?

Everything?

She knows her questions will not
satisfy

His search for meaning

Radical

You are a radical too,

Distempered by world events,

Angry at injustice and the misuse of

Power.

Even loyalty is in question

Planting your feet firmly in the garden of

Mistrust

All sharp edges

Warmed by sleep,

All sharp edges softened by desire,

Like this, it is so easy to love you,

My desire to please you made keen

Or keener still,

By your gentleness

I do not know what poetry is

I do not know what poetry is

I do not train my meters,

Measure my stanchions,

Mark out my rhymes.

I write freely

Elucidating my thoughts

Depicting my realities

Forming pictures from mere words

Connecting adverb and adjectives to their proper
nouns

Painting a world of feeling

The view is so beautiful

from Wikimedia Commons the Cifrado Americano

The view is so breathtaking that  music flows from it

A diorama in motion, circling below and set to

Trumpets and alto saxes,

Tingling to the vibration of a bass,

Tripping lovingly over the keyboard

Engaging the drummer and the vocalist in a fluid dialog

The view, the music, talking back and forth across time

_______________________________________________________
PS See which view we mean at http://www.vevlynspen.com/2012/12/holiday-gift-guide-day-9-dizzys-club.html 

I am tickled by your grace

I am tickled by your grace of motion

The ease with which you can glide and shuffle

There is a gentleness in your movements

As you sway or wiggle your hips

Just one more delicious detail to cherish

And recall as I sip a coffee at my desk

Longing for your voice and touch to reach out to me