moonlight disappears down the hills
mountains vanish into fog
and i vanish into poetry.

it is to be savored like a
seabreeze-whispered

dream...in the mysterious
blue minutes
before dawn

like a secret
infatuation.... like slow
languorous sips

of green tea... like a lingering
glimpse

a self-wrapped
paradise

like his name
upon my lips.

there are some poems
that we leave behind
some that leave us behind

while some just live
silently
in the heart

crumble, sometimes
dwindle
disappear
die

and are reborn
when you smile again.

Poems can get
sleepless too

and become

the loneliest thing
in the universe.

Poems are soft kitten furs. smoothing out the rough edges of my world.

What's a rainy day
without some delicious
coffee-flavoured loneliness?