An Act of Courage

Open the body's gates. Now, let fear

come, up those steps of bone and down

pulsating halls, to the room

decorated with love,

chamber of the heart.

Offer your breath.

Softly say:

Welcome

home.

Happiness

True happiness is shy.
You need to be gentle and soft,
sincere and kind,
because happiness can always tell
when people demand its presence
only for selfish pleasures,
and when they genuinely wish
to welcome happiness home,
and honor their dignified guest,
with care at home inside their heart.

Happiness is pure and simple,
requires only that you meet
its soft presence with yours.
Happiness will silently sit,
caress your arms that long
have held heaps of hurt within.
Happiness will sing,
perfume the glory of your being,
cool the treacherous loathing within
with every flap of each wing.

But only if you care enough
to invite happiness home.
So open your windows at night,
let this shy presence now glide in,
unseen by the glaring daylight.
Listen for the soothing sound
of it preening its feathers,
consistent as breathing,
or the calm regular beats
of peaceful open hearts.

Sergeant's Wife's Orders

Mosquitoes dead so red against the glass. 
In wok the frog legs jump and dance, sauté.
The keen scent of citrus and lemongrass 
of cleaner won't allay my nerves, tonight.
Kangaroo paws and dogwoods, pinks and mums, 
police the flagstone walkway.  Sergeant's wife, 
her boyfriend, with their standards, class, and such,
would they consider this bit strange, bit trite?
Bring the caviar, suckling's head, and change
out of your gray jumper.  Recall they asked
for black pudding, sweetbread...I know the guests
will judge us people always judge you judge....