Twelve full moons with twelve long distance phone bills:
Since I have seen your eyes and brushed your lips,
Or touched the skin on your soft mountain hills--
Our love now becomes an federal script.
I wait -- Montreal winter sleeps away:
Awakens me to make a faggot stand --
Then spring arrives a yesteryear today,
So I may place a ring upon your hand.
The day arrived -- we dance around the sun:
A caesura -- as Sappho blesses us,
Life's reality -- lifestyle still shunned --
The media swamps as we begin to cuss.
O, wise my fertile world of wonder --
My love today -- winter cold ground under.
~
~
~








-- that was why I chorkled and sent off the reply to you. You have not disrespected me at all, but I hope that there has been enlightment shared on both sides.
I will only delete them if you wish, otherwise it leaves open for some interesting dialogue. applaud



Everything else is lovely. Very well written, with wonderful imagery.



4 old applause
