Then he wrote, "We must
not touch our idols. The gilt
sticks to our fingers."
                                     -Flaubert

As I watched my
daughter sleeping soundly I 
thought,  "Please don't grow up."

"The tide is high, but
I'm holding on. I'm gonna 
be your number one."
                             -John Holt

I hear cheering down
the street. Like they're playing a
game. I'm kinda jealous.

The pages smelled like
an old-growth forest. The dust 
flew and made me sneeze.

As surely and
instantly as I felt it, I
felt it no longer.

Inspiration comes
from living things, growing, dying;
the things that breath life.

A good writer 
doesn't just talk well, but he listens
really well, too.

A storyteller,
dreamer, dramatist, historian;
the poet showman.

Your lips were so warm.
Mine were on fire. I wanted
your kiss forever.

her hair back-lit by 
the sun, waving from the playground,
smile in her heart

Good things come to those
who wait and, also, sometimes 
to those who don't wait.

I delight in you 
knowing me, not knowing me, 
clinging and not to me.

She dreamed of the 
city and their lives swinging in 
hammocks by the sea.

I could hear the guy
next door snoring, but he moved.
Now I hear a new guy.

I think Madonna
said it best when she said,
"I need a holiday."

I sat on the bed
to watch her sleep, because I
missed her so much.

Oh, what shall we do 
with a drunken sailor, early 
in the morning?

I don't want to think
about poems. I want to 
feel the sun, air, stars.

This morning the birds
and I woke up while it was 
dark. Before the sun.