In Which I Make Another Attempt At Poetry

by Ann Neilson

Lay by me, my darling,

as we paint the flowers and skies

with hues like the Aegean sea and 

yellow daffodils. 

Twist your hair and observe the 

rain as it pitter-patters

mimicking, tracing the rhythm of your heart;

thinking as piano melodies are plinking,

racing towards the tracks to your soul.


Drawings are envious of the eyes

that encompass all; your eyes.

Every flower bows its head in shame

to the spectacularity of your form;

graceful, whimsical, and tantalizing.

Blink blearily and nod your head as

you lull to bed in my arms.

Dream beautiful dreams, stories that can

be put to later use. 


Let the flickering flames of the dying fire

warm the last cold bits that haunt you.

Allow me to shoo them away, hush your crystal

tears, and frame your watercolor complexion

in the gallery of my mind.

(I promise I won’t quit my day job.)