And again at sea.

A little bird
Which came from you
And brought your gift out of the blue

When I awoke
She's perched up there
With ink which I must now review

So a star course
And the shore end
Gulls baptize me new again

And I alive
So rig the sails
We're out of breath but 'round the bend.

Then sinking ship
Into her sea
Were capsized by a gentle breeze

The pounding wave
The swim to shore
So warm, so wet, but still we breathe

A gentle sleep

A sunburn bare

They melt into your angry stare

The rushing surf

Is only still

When I awake and still you're there

And I again
All locked away
So that they would not all decay

Or sacrificed
To one false step
A match, a flame, a rainy day

You've lost your boat
Marooned at sea
An island that I cannot leave

Go build your raft
Or swim astray
The tides will bring you back to me.

wee bit confused.

Her rhymes have been written so painfully
That after reading, I'm left quite bemused
She thinks of herself as a raveler
But I believe her a wee bit confused.

I wonder when idle: why the contempt
Of meter, the chutzpah which she displays
While she speeds through her grande poeming process
With rhyme in mind, but no other delays

So unlike myself: I carefully write
And then revise with the knife and my pen
Until the lines flow washing together
Until all is perfect, and only then

And then, only then will I hit 'send'.
Though I am busy, you may depend
On it.
On me.