To have lavender lips under the leaves of the world

In poems anything can be said
eyelids don’t obey the night
hearts might float as silver flying machines

throats might have a spiritual flicker
in poems anything might fly
slow heart breaths to music’s touch

lavender creeps in through the bedroom window
and fragrance tell us a bed-time story
In poems dreams collide, with the ocean’s floor

with stars that spring loud as the streaming sun
treasures could last for centuries
on eager notes of autumn amusement

In poems anything can zealously work
for the beacon of the times had a candle
that said to each morning how much I loved you

with a mouth for cranberry tea and the bluest glow
In poems I miss you always
for even careful words are too numerous
To be taken seriously.