Aubade: Mourning-dove

Dawn fires

the cold roses

one-

at-

a-time, 

when, with

planetary urge,

all explode to

vermillion

conflagration.

Then the cherry tree,

plain in

drab leaf,

erupts into

emerald

glory,

and high

from the bright rooftop

the mourning-dove

sings

his low, plaintive

song of 

love.

(15 June 2014)

In the morning, early

In the morning, early

before the sun has cleared

our neighbor’s roof,

we move through

our morning chores:

You water your gardens

and I feed my birds.

The rose, the morning glory,

creeping higher

up the blue trellis, reaching

for the brightening sky;

in the window-box

the vinca flaming red,

as sparrow and finch tumble

from the cherry tree

swarming in noisy congregation,

fussing and quarreling, shoving

for more seed -

rejoicing!

(1 July 2015)

Aubade Wake Up and See

Wake

up

and see

how the sun

lights the top-most leaves

sets astir the delta breeze, shrugs

off night and drives darkness down into the flashing sea!

Aubade: Your Face

Starry lace wraps

your sleeping face.

With passion
I watch over you

like the moon

drifting

to secret

rendezvous,

to the importunate sun,

who, with ardent speed,

rises in-

to the fiery

east!

Aubade: Autumn

Day and night

our hearts beat,

arteries, veins pulse

breath swells ardent lungs

and we live!  

Oh, hear how the morning dove moans

in the pale early light;

Wander with me.

With open arms

embrace the radiant eye.

Our love grows

as slowly

we rise.