Our House

you are so truly missed,
my dear poet friends!

the day-to-day continues empty!
without that touch of sweet
without romantic mist
those question signs with open ends
I'm looking forward to re-entry...

our house of valor and despair
where kings get drunk upon lush favors
of lifeless joy and happy times
exquisite colors, lovers, haters
the punishments without their crimes
where love is formulated through mistakes,
high stakes and fluff of word of mouth
your holy grail is his carafe
in humoresque is owned by atheist giraffe!
3 liner sets of mortal moral moras!
high cumulus above us - soars, so as
I read the works that phantoms share
I dare...to leave my thoughts
in humble corner of your posting
where coy is next to hellish roasting
where we can simply talk
no want for face to face
where poetry resides
in it's naive, all-knowing grace


you are so truly missed
my dear poet friends...