Scarborough Fair.
1- Scarborough fair…. I once dance with the prettiest gal at the Scarborough fair. I told her, I wanted to marry her and to make her smile every day of her life. She… Continue reading
Monthly Archive: November, 2025
Passing through.
Passing through…. A poet and writer exchanging words and thoughts. The Coffee house poet told the writer. We can never win. Jack London once wrote. “The gods always win. Men believe they can… Continue reading
The Lake Huron song.
The Lake Huron song. Closed wounds can bleed again, no healing for true love lost. You and I, we were Summer wine and Lake Huron late night swim. You were the prettiest girl… Continue reading
Scottish kisses.
Scottish kisses. It was 1978 and the long days of Summer were here. Early June, warm days, weekend activities and weekend adventures to discover new places. I found safety in the German taverns.… Continue reading
In the field of perfection.
In the field of perfection. I wished upon the first star of the new night,I wished for warm Spring days,good wine, long days and warm kisses.I want to drink in your beauty through… Continue reading
My ambrosia.
My Ambrosia. Those eyes, your moving feet.You stole my heart and my soul.And I asked you.Baby, my love , my darling.What do you need?I would steal the moon and the stars to make… Continue reading
Don’t explain dear lover.
Don’t explain dear lover… He waited for a miracle, and he wrote upon a blank sheet of paper. “I found a miracle; I have found you again. I told you yesterday. I want… Continue reading
The lost and found.
The lost and found A Poem by Coyote PoetryWhen love is misplaced. hard to find again. The lost and found…. I loved the Monterey nights. I would walk from Fort Ord, California to… Continue reading
You, secrets, falling and wants.
1- YouYou make me want things I cannot have.Your sweet words making me wish for placeswere I can be free and wild.Knowing no control and swimming in your eyes. 2- SecretsI want… Continue reading
Black as the night. Part three.
Black as the night.. I told her. Everybody knows you have a black heart, and I know more than most. You smell like wildflowers in the early Spring, and you talk so sweet.… Continue reading