- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Stones, Flat
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Moods are such funny things
The lazy lot of will lies
in a torpor
was it the heat
was it the dampness
was it the cloying nearness of flesh?
Limits are such narrow words,
Take me higher , o ever higher
and soar
the heavens are Mine
and the world below
sopping in blue veldtness
and the bright yellows I love so much
Standing at the shore of the bay, I skip stones
and hark back to when I was
younger, much younger,
and stood
skipping flat stones
far across the ocean
I loved living there
The sound of the waves sending me to sleep each night,
that inexorable, indomitable spirit permeating My
essence
and still I am
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