pursuit

itching for a flight
unencumbered to the light
Icarus survived you know
blind and burned with phantom limbs
screaming in the night

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

the way to my heart

my love abides at Hurricane's each day
burrito breakfast you have claimed my heart
'tis lust not love some keen observers say
and in their eyes I see it from the start

eggs scrambled to perfection seasoned with
the playful bite of salsa mild not hot
add bacon's savory influence and dis-
appointment will most certainly be naught

and in your wrap coquettishly demure
your treasures steaming barely out of sight
I can't resist your scent and your allure
so hungry I could eat you in one bite

oh Hurricane's she is your finest meal
at any price her tastiness a steal

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

cycle

stress
leads to duress
and later we resign
and deign to sleep
after we weep

before
we begin
again

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Inspired by Priya Patel's Fall Leaves.

elegant ascent

in evening's cool
on rocky shore
the moon is rising from the sea

the boys
they grunt and groan and heave
the bones of mother earth

inchoate goal
it seems to be
farthest out into the sound

but she
on edge of knotted mob
appears to count the stones

she sorts and weighs
with measured gaze
each of her candidates

until the one
so flat and round
so smoothly fit
into her hand

she strides
into that knotted mob
and with a practiced
underhand

silence
save the whiz and skip
as earth flies to the moon

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Inspired by the work of Katherine Johnson

thin line

I wish there never had to be
destroyers floating on the sea
vessels better than those of war
are research ships forged to explore
myst'ries of uncharted deep
finding knowledge they can reap

Cousteau and Ballard would approve

but even they by pedigree
know ideals are a purity
reality eschews
bad actors often make the stage
politicos who foment rage
and plunder from those whom they save

they beat the drums of war

so those destroyers on the sea
the stick against bad actors be
a practical necessity
demands we vote responsibly

lest we be dogs of war

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

thinly veiled

torrid dreamscape she's revealed
her supple curves aglow
beneath diaphanous veneer
of natural wand'rings it is clear
her passion carried always near
she's with me where I go
leisurely stroll about the hills
perhaps along the valley's rills
or where the surf's crescendo thrills
I hear her whispers sing
and as the day slips into night
dreamscape on wings surely takes flight
her hills alive as I alight
the rhythm gently builds
until the whispers turn to moans
and arching toward that sweet unknown
where parted lips and guiding hands
release the thunderstorm

rains and thunder soon recede
the dreamscape fades but not the need
her scent and feel the colors bleed
as dawn replaces night

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

agony

beach of rounded stones
appearances deceiving
barefoot walk to sea

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved