The seduction of a feel,
Of a flower,
Of deep night.
When
I think of catching the spirit,
Of the
Night.
Over there
On the
Palm
Over the stairs.
If i could catch
That
Slump
Into a gaze.
Encryption
And
Put it in a
Vase…
Bottle…
Paper…
The touch, so deeply desirable,
The bloom is opened,
Especially in the kind dark.
Reaching
For the comfort of this living ghost,
That
Warms the evening.
My view is
Of the
Arching branch
Sheltering the walkway.
With
Graceful sway
It enlivens my spirit.
Few, perhaps only one
Feel
The sensuous art
Of phrase...
Of hand...
Thought convoyed by eyes only...