Sonnet for Dulcinea

There be a time when springs will come and forget to bring the summer.

Yet sweet soundless music will whisk the air as if lover’s summer feign,

Until the blossoms die and Apollo grows cold, his warm love for mankind wanes,

Passing by the golden leaves and fields of green, returns the linens of winter.

Yet Dulcinea, thou stand so still even amidst the cold and wintry groves,

Dressed only with Psyche’s dress and Evie’s robes -

I longed to drape you with my words of love as clothes.

But no fire could thrive in Apollo’s wrath, and somewhere, sometime, I lost my guide.

Alas, if only thou hast an ear for me, I would my heart break asunder,

Basked in the golden sun, recite to you these words from Eden I have plundered,

“Sweet Dulcinea, thy image trapped within my heart’s lament,

Fairer than Helen, sadder than a withering rose, and more than Paris content,

Fading away into the Evergreen, and ne’er shall I find a face so serene,

Than yours asleep in the autumn scene.”

Tribute to Salinger's "Catcher in the Rye"

I peeked around the corner, and craned to see
If down the street, there really were
An elephant white, and filled with glee
hopping, with wings at its rear.

I looked under the couch to verify
If, my dad really kid not I,
A great red wall with mice and all,
With murals of great kings in awe.

I pressed my ear against his chest,
To hear the deep tumtum of his heart,
And know that of all the children he loved me best,
Even though I spilled the milk, a whole one quart.

But all I saw ‘round the corner,
Were men in white and black,
Yelling, pointing, yelling pointing.

All I found beneath the couch,
Were dust, foods, and rats,
Scurrying, squeaking, scurrying, squeaking.

And all I heard from his chest,
Was silence. Silence. Silence.
So I wondered, and wandered,
Until I came across a peculiar cliff asunder,
I thought then, skies all blue, below a field of rye,
That maybe I could fly.

So I ran towards the edge.
The clouds appeared, and the sky turned red,
I tried to stop, but my feet tread forward,
I tumbled over, falling ever lower.

I closed my eyes, and began to cry,
Damn the mice, Damn the elephants,
Damn the silent heart that sucked me dry.
I closed my eyes, and felt the end,
Life suddenly seemed so bland.

But then a voice called out, “Hold on tight!”
And his arms caught me right.
The clouds died away, and the sun shone through.
He set me down, and said, pointing, “over there look!”

And I saw…Ah, but alas,
The image is different each time.
But perhaps that is for the best, my lass,
For ‘tis not my images that’ll last,
But yours, dearie, my lovely dearest,
And when perhaps you find one day,
That falling is the only way,
I’ll be there, in that field of rye,
Catching you, whispering “hold on tight!”
And show you the world, in this same light,
Right now, and forever,
Yes, that’ll be how it goes,
A thorn, a rose,
A journey, an everlasting flight,
Through white clouds and blue skies.