memories of you

You are far from me now
though I once held you near,
yet in every autumn breeze
‘tis your voice I do hear.

The tips of these fingers
still feel your fine skin,
these eyes hold the vision
of the elegance you were in.

This heart echoes the beat
of potent passion’s embrace,
my thoughts reflect the beauty
that resides e’er in your face.

Every dear memory of you
sure enhances my love,
this enduring desire entrances
envious the fairies above.

No day could diminish
nor year could ever erase,
the light from your soul
the smile from your face.

Even as the heavens call me
to some far distant shore,
I would plead to be with you
for just one moment more.


without her

in her absence
i so often my thoughts explore
imploring my heart a peace to find
instructing my mind a focus to pursue

but beyond that
this empty space around me
quite compels me to feeling reach
for her again and again grasping at air

this coldly flesh
pressing eagerly her to touch
fumbling for her beneath sheets
tossing and turning night after night

my blood burns
yearning to thrust hard within
pinning her body below my need
feeding lustful my hunger for her

yet needing still
to fulfill her every desiring
inspiring her with richest pleasure
measured inch by inch along her skin

may she know
beyond doubting how clever
she enchants my body and soul
with hope and ever heartful longing

and this as well,
beloved, know that this me
sings keeningly such love for you
that the moon herself a jealous shade

coloring coldly, warmly wraps
our love around her core

Salt Lake City 05 Aug 2022

before there was song

if ever there was a time before song
then still I am sure was the land
filled with singers ringing their hearts
for want of just the right words
to express the truths they held dear
or the fears born of darkly silence

how maddening the unspoken tones
tearfully tearing at their sighing souls,
the mourning melancholy when folly
begets loss and limits salvation’s hope,
but much more than this: how dreadful
to love yet lack the lyrics to sing!

i am no artist, yet can in clinging feel
the beating of this heart, and thus reveal
through Brighid’s profoundly mystical
inspiration, paving the way for tales
of sensual abandon and honest desires,
and verses that simply vowing explore

more adoringly the fullest warmth
and gentlest beauty of my beloved
that naturally rises beyond any song
ever sung by the fair finest of men

Salt Lake City 21 June 2022

saying goodnight

Sometimes I stare at her
for nothing more than
the purest warmest pleasure
of seeing her face again,

of recalling once more
quite gently the touch of
her hand pressed in mine
guiding eager my steps,

of tasting tantalized
her luscious lips as most
passionately she kissed
mine deeply dreaming.

It is not that I could now
or ever feverish forget
her eyes, her sighs, her heart
ardently beating magically so.

Rhiannon, my lovely moon,
mistress of untold mischief
making merrily the very
voracious souls of men

to dance extraordinarily,
simply for the sake of slaking
their thirsty desires on wiry
frames and twisting sheets.

She too, delicious moon,
must come and slowly go
only to return the following
night ever without fail.

So too must my love depart
while I belying loss, smiling
cast her the gentlest glance
while aching to touch her again.

I know she will return, and
it is not the fear of losing her
that prompts me once more
her beautiful face to peruse,

rather it is simply this: that in
seeing her again, I feel such
immense joy that I would happily
stare once again and again, recalling

her eyes, her sighs, her heart.

Salt Lake City 13 June 2022


This for you, beloved,
only and ever for you
who are in word and deed
and oh so much more
a blessed source of
limitless inspiration,
compelling in complex
simplicity this simplest
me to be in ways untold
in days as yet unimagined,
in time made possible
and gratefully realized
in you and only you,
who are quite boundless,
beyond banal definition
and always arching above
amorous accumulations
and man’s petty pursuits.
Undaunted, you rise higher,
you stand firmer than merely
these words untouching tell.
Having bled heavy with
sorrow, you float buoyant
and so indefinably beautiful,
a luscious luminescence of
precious petals tentatively
trailing implausibly radiant
a light reflected from above
from you, my sweet love,
at once source and seeker
descending yet ascending
cascading deftly innocent
hints of all that has been
and all that yet can be

Salt Lake City 12 June 2022

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

beside you

The sky seems somehow darker than usual,
the stars more timid, even the moon shyly
hiding behind conveniently amassing clouds.

I sit here staring at mere images of you,
depictions of you that hardly dare to convey
the wondrous beauty I ever see in your eyes.

I silent abide, hearing your vibrant voice echo
playfully in my thoughts, gayly gathering
timbres of most lustrous and luscious tones.

And I cannot help but recognize the truth
that this moment imparts with utter precision
as visions of you enchant my very soul:

that I do not – could not – ever wish for
even a single day without you, without
your passionate touch, your endearing smile.

So sleep, my love, beneath this darkling sky,
beneath this timorous moon, these modest stars
and know that however far from me you rest,

my heart is always beside you.

Salt Lake City 03 June 2022

her smile

There is a tenderness about the night
a gentleness of the heart and hearth,
a craving for home and a warmth
that belies the still and willful winter air.

The moon knows this, and dipping
drowsily down around each
eagerly lifting fairy sweetly blesses
with lessening sorrows this simple man.

Night was when I first spied the spryly
playful image of her, a smile both
sumptuous and serene as keenly
I cast my glance about most beauteous she.

Had I time enough this exquisite maiden
to describe, still my words could not suffice,
for in her eyes I glimpsed more than
sweetness, but the tones of eternity itself.

I stared and stared and still my spirit
could not find respite from this need,
this pleading ponderous rooted being
that grows so to-ing and fro-ing within.

For have I not sought this delicious truth
for so many years, tearfully laughingly
dancing through a life that was at best
incomplete … until this soulful she

with teasing crimson curling locks
and a smile that sang of hearth and heart
and hope drew me passionately forth,
for in the night is a gentleness I shall never forget

and a voice that beckons me home.

Salt Lake City 09 February 2022

this voice

I knew this scene at once
although I had never been:

The color of the gorse
that wonderfully melting
yellow course beneath which
the land rolls and reels.

The stream she follows,
her bare feet dipping
playfully into the cool
waters that run the meadow.

The distance bothy
beneath silent elms,
roots delving deeply into
a much shadowed past.

I hear as much as see
this gorgeous she plying
smilingly blessings toward
the eager stolid shore,

her teasing tempting hair
brightly reddening across
the bluest sky I have ever seen
between this now and ever more.

Her heart beats meaning
beyond words, beyond time
miming a chorus that only
the truest lovers ever know.

Her lips smiling such a
scintillating rhythm
of hope and desire and need
yet pleading bending not.

How could I not know
this place, this home
and hallowed meadow,
this gently meandering burn?

How could I not know
her eyes – my God, her eyes
and lips lusciously imploring,
her skin sweetly exploring?

This meadow, these waters
and winsome leaves in trees
that pray earnest love
and deeply devoted longing –

this she and we in meeting,
departed yet imparting more
of truth than the distant sea
could ever faltering fix –

for now – this bare moment –
I have heard her warmly speak
and in this breathing voice I know
the precious blissful call

of home.


There are memories born in the stars,
moments that melt even angry Mars’
coldly stiffening heart with the heatedly
hardening resolve of a tempered soul.

Somewhere just beyond baleful Venus
revolves a starry cluster of most hungrily
galaxy clutching spirits sharply spinning
around such a fiery burning immensity.

And there was she born—my phoenix—
insatiably tasting the heavens themselves
as wings expanding she flew forth
soaring nobly needfully down to earth.

Where I awaited her, plaiting pretty
strands of silk a nest to hopeful construct
for no other reason than that she might
pause a time beneath this fullest moon,

and allow me a moment somewhere
between Mars and Venus to breathing
please her, pet her, and a memory evoke
of the fire that she has ignited in my heart.

İstanbul 19 December 2021

spring – bahar


Life grew and shrank and sharpened
as time passed, and he could not say
when the evening had fallen, or if those
lingering lights truly were the stars
he had known, or even if the moon
would ever reveal its beauty to him again.

For time can be cruel in its selfish
mockery of man’s hopes and needs,
and in the barest moment of calm,
voices emerge once more demanding
his attention as the moon drapes herself
in darkening clouds this night as well.

He knew this had to be so. He knew
there must be a summer of warmth
and playful abandon, and an autumn
of tearful regrets, and a winter
of most urgent and painful longing.

But the snows melted and night fell,
and he opened his doors again to find
his beautiful moon smiling down
on him, for Spring will always come
to those whose honest hearts can sing.

İstanbul 9 December 2021


Hayat büyüdü ve küçüldü ve keskinleşti
zaman geçtikçe, ve söyleyemedi
akşam çöktüğünde, veya bunlar
kalan ışıklar gerçekten bildiği
yıldızlardı, hatta ay bile, bilemedi,
güzelliğini ona bir kez daha gösterecekti.

Çünkü zaman bencilliğinde acımasız
olabilir, insanın umutları ve ihtiyaçlarıyla
alay edilmesi, ve en sakin anında,
sesler bir kez daha talepkar çıkıp
dikkatini çeker, ay kendini örterken
bu gece de kararan bulutlarda.

Bunun böyle olması gerektiğini biliyordu.
Biliyordu ki sıcak tutkulu bir yaz vardı
ondan sonra ağlayan pişmanlıklarla
bir sonbahar, evet, ve bir kış gelir
en acil ve acılı özlemin mevsimi.

Ama karlar eridi ve gece düştü,
ve kapılarını tekrar açtığında
onun özledigi güzel ayı yine buldu
gökyüzünlerde, onun üzerine gülümsediği
ayı, çünkü bahar her zaman gelir
dürüst kalpleri şarkı söyleyebilenlere.

İstanbul 9 Aralık 2021