rose red

 rose red, rose red

whom shall I wed?

rose red, rose red

from thorns I bled.

rose red, rose red

alone on my deathbed.

beauty

 

waterlilies have bugs

so beauty is flawed

but love beguiles

sweeter than strawberries

 

love at first kiss

sweeter than strawberries

short-lived bliss

for the incredible Miroslav Sekera

the music that you make with your hands

weaves magic in the air
and transports us into a different world

beyond the stress and sorrows

that we know

and we are ever so reluctant to go

back into the crazy world

where your magical fingers

dance like shadows

and the incredible music reduced to echoes

and I have no flowers

and no wine

and no rose

to show appreciation for your art.

bridges

we stand one either side

gazing across the rushing river

transfixed by the reflected images

of earth and sky,

mortality and immortality

afraid to cross

lest we meet dead center

over swirling water

and unite by grasping each other’s fate

in our hands

and so we only gaze

and dream about

the other side of the matter.

under the blossoming tree

 

under the blossoming tree

I fain would like to lie

with  kisses like blossoms of cherry

bewitching me from the darkness of reality.

oh moon

 

silberne mond, du  auf himmelszelt

sag mir doch, sag mir

wo mein schatz eilst

butterfly love

 

for just a short season,

it dances on wind

and flutters its wings

to die in the dust

and forgotten by us.

edible

 

edible

delectable,  delicate

your skin like soft petals

entices me

to feast.