pursings

pursings (111111.1)

share with me the sweet murmuring pursings of your lips
the honest, every so slight, smile of your joys
the glowing, pulsating, immensity of your light
and the way you soooooooooo enjoy chocolate pie

knowing you as i do, i never wonder at your beauty
i never imagine life without the blessings you bring to me
i never feel as if there is something better for me
or if the birds in our yard do not love you every day

but sometimes i contemplate a fantasy in which we run away
to another place, riches over flowing, and honey dipped nights
where we can dig a luxurious garden and grow prize flowers
and lay about in the sun, snuggling and warm in the breeze

because i want to be with you where you are most yourself
where your creations persist, unless you discard them,
where the game is to create the best of everything,
rather than stop others from destroying it utterly.

oh that i keep just one simple memory of you when i go
something to warm me on even the most arctic of stations
a keepsake of the life which was worth it, worth it, worth it
and gives me the one seed i need to start again anew and live again.

Copyright Scott Weible
All Rights Reserved
November 11, 2011

fleeting sounds

fleeting sounds (10 November 2011.1)

fleeting sounds of night and rain
of cars driving to their shelter
of men wondering what is for dinner
of women worrying if the cat ate the fish
of children, crankily loving the ride home

all after a trying day being apart
being lost in the maze of other lives
others needs for answers and rigid order
after thinking they were required to do as they were told
after the desperate thrust to understand what they cannot

as i listen to the sounds of the night
to the choruses authored by the wind
to the hopes and worries of my fellows
it comes to mind that all of this will settle down
and then, just as quickly, boil over into a happy coincidence
of sounds, of joys, of coming together again.

Copyright 2011, Scott Weible
All Right Reserved.