And what do I serve with tea?

Of a cake layered with words - a slice
A croissant with stirring smilies
A quiche with quaint archaic spice -
Fresh from a poet's repository.

In the clink and chime of quills and pots
And spoons that stir the brewing tea
Dark or creamed, winter or spring
Here's to a cup of poetry.

What was your secret of―
cheating on me?

If you were an abstraction
like a moon in blue night,
how will you write
a poem, without paper and ink.

I was a word catcher,
of your language.
Cannot decipher my pain in―
my nativity.

Always had to live in the
family of longhorns, who
destroyed my sanctity.

You raised a tomb
of sun, after death squad
failed to **** me
and the dark fell.

Just before the dawn
I will meet you in deep lake of eyes.

It stifles more than stimulates,
Imprisons more than liberates,
Inhibits more than invigorates,
So why let it dominate..

And after promising him that not even death could do them part; she left him.

God, grant her strength to
Get through the day,
To simply keep breathing and
Not let anxiety and fear get the best of her.
You know what is best;
Please keep her safe in
Her hours of trial.
God, grant her courage.