Words exhausted cease to exist

twenty six in shapes to choose

if my tongue pronounce insist

then I need to check my muse.

What is there for me to write

when no love is there to see

where no one to kiss in spite

of my search from land to sea.

I could write about temptation

and the swing of silk like hips

or just search my imagination

for the perfect pair of lips.

Only words not hard to find

if twenty seven in my past

for a life so much entwined

in the words my passion cast.






In my imaginary world

there are no walls to hold me in

nor emptiness or pain within

only freedom without end.

My imaginary world

has no limits to transcend

from sea to clouds

and beyond the stars

with sails secured by shrouds

formed in love and care.

In my imaginary world

adventures have no bars

to hold me in when dare

to fly away.

My imaginary world

is made of light as bright as day

brighter than the nearest star

with no place ever too far

if I decide to stay.


H.O. 11/19/14