by

POET

a.k.a.

T.W. Crawford

If you might indulge my intuitive approaches to sensitive regions

allow my visions to give doubters credence

to hope, faith and the power of each season

no reasoning for inflicting pain

tossed for a loss in these nomad journeys

frustration and lust drive folks insane

history finds man weary from the horsemen of Canterbury

back to Bobby Mcferrin's "No Worries"

Yet, hope grants some strawberries and plums

nectars kissed by the sun

children and baby teeth

athletes; fleet of feet

Throughout life stands hope

lining the earth as nickels from curb pitchers

nature sometimes smiles for the camera

as society takes pictures

warming hearts like fireplaces in homes,

or often missed students phoning home

Vamped to the gloomy gallows that straddle our cities

cities ebony as Nefertiti

urban-elegance as creative graffiti

clouded on notebooks, funky as

R&B songs with rap hooks

and as I shook my head; turned and lightly

brushed your shoulder

I exhaled all frailties that dwelled between

man and woman,

testosterone and estrogen made amends

I deeply inhaled solitaire thoughts

freely escaping within your skin

I patiently muddle through life's ironic winds

knowing bad weather must descend

and hope will deliver my dreams

allowing me to replay love all over again.

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