Love is Where She Blooms

On her garden bench she smiles.

In her eyes, no cunning wiles,

only shyness.

Humble, sweet

innocence I will entreat.

Quickly to one knee I go,

hearts beat fast, but time goes slow.

Everyone she knows above,

witness this display of love.

See the ring here,

diamond bright.

Yes, I love you!

Yes, it’s right!

Say you love me too, my dear.

Don’t let my heart dangle here.

Lovingly she takes my hand,

tenderly slips on the band.

Fading now, the vision’s gone.

It’s her grave I’m standing on.

Springtime’s redolent perfumes

always linger

where she blooms.

Where Will You Take Me?

Where will you take me?

“Where would you go?”

Up to the sky to play

in the moon’s glow.

Out past the night clouds

to juggle the stars.

There’d be no limits,

no chains, and no bars.

“Where will you take me?”

Where would you go?

“Down to the ocean floor

so far below,

stirring the sandy mud,

skimming the stones.

Passing by treasure,

and shipwrecks, and bones.”

“Come, let us go now.

First here, and then there.

Deep on a sea voyage

high in the air.”