will you share a last
dance with
me?
before we
leave
knowing not whether
we’ll be
back..
to waltz another
next year,
take
a bow-
not feeling
morbid,
just thankful
for right
now.
Author: grumpygorman
find me on last
page–
turn over new
leaf,
shut book, close
eyes
and question
beliefs
in a story more ready
than the
one
in
your hands,
should you care
to read
on..
with this
man.
were my thoughts
heard..
you’d blush at
the words
chosen to frame
my photo of
you..
always changing,
ever new.
could we imagine the
same moment?
would it dull the
experience?
all that mystery
and intrigue..
of what differs in
you from
me.
full weight upon
the pillow
eyes half open,
though she
snores,
in rhythm with
rain on
roof-
her dreams fog
up the
floor.
on the mind but
not in heart..
where it
best
be..
to truly
see
you for worthiness
you are-
beyond petty wants
and need.
send out the invites
to the clown
fight-
won’t be watching
that show,
for
reasons
undisclosed..
i must decline,
though you’ve offered
front row,
and cheap
wine.
dewdrops on
eyelids,
too luscious
to kiss,
rain drips from
hair tips,
a puddle of
bliss..
too deep to step
over-
so we slip
under.
turn it up, lay
it down
drink it up and
drown..
in sounds of
summer
on the breeze
of youth’s
lips,
driftin’ into a
hazy day
mix
windswept
hair..
and nary a
care-
’bout what others
see,
for she wears the
breeze
and her smile cuts
thru cold
with such
ease.
hands in the garden 
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