IF pears compare
to apples smile
then fruit is key;
the orchid of hearts!
And if rivers roar
like stone’s ashore
then water is rock
and time, smooth
My ancient heart
tiny-tender toes,
patter-slide me!
The ballerina heart
saves me, my soul!
:: ~ ::
THEN like when early mornings
nodding wakefully by sunlight
and youthful slowly days turning
the page of that thick book of life
by when had once, and of their
loved moments of glad grace,
and the song of tender feelings
that by nature sings to hearts
between/below the rays of light
by babbling brook and glowing bars
And swollen tears too pregnant to birth
the breach of wishing, little sadly,
to see the dream fleeing upward
into the misty mountains overhead
I hide my own heart; my own life
the precious dreams of my own wishing!
:: 06-16-2015 ::
WHAT fear that burns!
that all the eye can see —
the morning bird upon a tree
such burning truth, that melody!
sweeping morning clear the night
erasing visage of thick-white fog
and the mortal soul
lost within its night…
on a beautiful day
of mourning light!
:: – ::
Oh i slip-tickled falling
landing upon a dragonfly
mid-flight above a sunflower
–beating sun upon my shoulders
iridescent laughter caught
my throat and her wings
beating all my worries
so far away and I feel
like a new born and I
wish you were here too
to feel newborn like me
And I cried for joy
And the fields of evening
moved with the gentle winds
and my soul — so bare
and I feel like a newborn!
:: 05-13-2015 ::
MY God I saw
the love-bug today
red and black so like
the spots upon my heart!
She crawled upon my sleeve
where be tender tears
and drank away the sorrow
My God I know what be Mercy!
:: 04-28-2015 ::
I think today I broke
a word in my ignorance!
I did the deed within my garden
I stabbed with spade
upon a letter within
the damp soil, lay the bee!
And in my haste I slay she
and shouted in thunder,
‘Oh! It cannot BE!’
:: – ::
AND how many skies
for a single soul?
Just one and none,
if it may be!
The Soul is higher
than any sky when placed
upon soil;
its eyes toward the sun always
and when released
from skin it paints
the sunrises
for all to see!
:: 04-10-2015 ::
AND with no curiosity
nor enjoyment for life
each knock upon my
chamber heart ignored!
THAT door once built
upon intoxicating power;
a wilted stem o’ flower
is how I see my soul!
A ceaseless disregard
for popular accord
I wish to spread
the seeds of prose
and watch the flowers grow!
and before you ever thought
of Spring did you ever see
the bluejay sing?
:: 04-10-2015 ::
THAT nature! She soothed my
beating heart this day!
The sound of throated-love
She sang in trees till
Spring became a burning
summer, I too! Did I burn?
Somewhere upon the ode
of Botanic Gardens!
The birds. The floral
passion of God’s eyes!
And all of me went walking
that day with the mystery
— a woman I wish to know!
A maritime — a Marina
I wish to know!
:: 04-06-2015 ::
my sweet Spring voice!
throated blue-jay
sing! What sound
when the voice of
that woman i
dearly love!
:: 03-08-2015 ::
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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