A cool new moon, a - Winter's night, calm blood,- Sluggish moving only out of habit, - We need Peace and summer...

The sun rises at midday,
Moss breasts sag to waistlines while
young loins grow dull,
so late.
Dreams are petted, like
cherished lap dogs
misunderstood  and loved
too well...


Much knowledge
wrinkles  the cerebellum, 
but little informs.
Leaps are 
made into narrow mincing.
Great desires strain
into petty wishes.
You did arrive, smiling,
but too late.