Passion

It is a thing that stirs the soul

That moves the mouth to smile

The eyes to beam with energy uncovered

From quiet places of the heart

Sweet Morsels

As with food the overabundance

Of words overwhelms the mind

As a feast doth overwhelm stomach

More is the pleasure of a sweet morsel

A simple truth is more to be savored

And to linger over this one fact

Than to rush flavorful aroma and spice

And lose the sensation

That the first bit of knowledge

Had initially to offer

There is reason in quietness

Not rushing words from carriage of mind

To vocal expression and beyond the lips

Before making sense of them

Of pondering long and deep

And making wonder of their

Sweet or sour impression

seep through me

I cannot be profound

I can only be myself

I can only offer to a friend

What is in my heart to give

But what is there to offer

Depends on whose audience

I’ve been proffered

And then, either by willful choice

Or passive negligence allowed

To seep through me

The radio in my car

An ungoverned voice blaring

Silly words and sensual sonnet

Foolish banter and a deejay’s foul words

“Let’s get unconscious” Madonna purrs…

I laugh, tossing out a verb

Here or there that I know

Should I be merry for learning

Word and melody feeding

Into me

I shut it off and walk

Through a friend’s door

We joke about making out

Probably both entertaining

The thought