ocean sun

by Billy Collins

Nine Horses

Aimless Love

This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,

I fell in love with a wren

and later in the day with a mouse

the cat had dropped under the dining room table.

In the shadows of an autumn evening,

I fell for a seamstress

still at her machine in the tailor's window,

and later for a bowl of broth,

steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.

This is the best kind of love, I thought,

without recompense, without gifts,

or unkind words, without suspicion,

or silence on the telephone.

The love of the chestnut,

the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.

No lust, no slam of the door-

the love of the miniature orange tree,

the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,

the highway that cuts across Florida.

one

by Shannondoah

one

overcome,

by the

all 

of 

it.

suddenly

you.

epic love.

i'm thinking

my heart

feels 

like

a

sunset

warm and glorious

a

symphony

of unity,

of one.

xvii

by Pablo Neruda 

'100 Love Sonnets Cien sonetos de amor'

xvii

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, 

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms

but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;

thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,

risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

heaven

by Shannondoah

heaven

heaven

only knows

the

love

i feel

safe, i

keep

our 

light

kyanite

sweet

star

the listener

by Billy Collins

The Listener

I cannot see you a thousand miles from here,

but I can hear you

whenever you cough in your bedroom

or when you set down

your wineglass on a granite counter

This afternoon

I even heard scissors moving

at the tips of your hair

and the dark snips falling

onto a marble floor.

I keep the jazz

on the radio turned off.

I walk across the floor softly,

eyes closed,

the windows in the house shut tight.

I hear a motor on the road in front,

a plane humming overhead,

someone hammering,

then there is nothing

but the white stone building of silence.

You must be asleep

for it to be this quiet,

so I will sit and wait

for the rustle of your blanket

or a noise from your dream.

Meanwhile, I will listen to the ant bearing

a dead comrade

across these floorboards-

the noble sounds

of his tread and his low keening.

echo

by Shannondoah

longing

Longing

like

an

eternal echo

so close

but

so far

through the clouds

mist and fog

i look

for 

you

sf

by Frances Horovitz (1938-83)

Loving You

soft as old silk

I tread in this room

wary of space

that between us flows

you know me

as fish knows fish in tide-

no more you know

I could mark you through to the bone-

no touch

you'd own

so gently I walk

around the space

enclosing you

soft as silk

loving you