Desire’s nectar sweeter than the sweetest wine…

There is ...
          no furnace hotter than the seat of passion’s flower…
          no fragnant  sweeter  than the bearded clam
          no tastier than the furry taco  
          no forcemore shattering above  or beneath earth
          no shattering moments more than the vertical smile 
that can stand against it’s power.

And now the weary gloom my soul… 
dost wail in fitful turn…
longing ever longing… a strapping hefty toll.

Desire’s nectar sweeter than the sweetest wine…
engulfs my very shadow…
reality weeps remembering those moments; pressing against my mind.

But love… true love… even the simpleton knows…
comes resting midst the thorns …
that bears the lovely rose.

Her fragrance embraces me everywhere…
her face as fine as gold ….
And I to guard with earnest care…
her heart I’ll defend… 
and with my honor hold.

Jerusalem : To love it, is first to explore it

On earth,
in his beloved Jerusalem,
he could often be found in that tiny café
on King George,
sipping black coffee.
Everyone knew who he was,
but they all left him alone.
Later, he would shop in the shuk
like everyone else,
take a seat in the back of the bus,
put down his bags of fruits and vegetables,
and dream a little
till the bus reached his stop.
Everyone else was asleep
when he rose at four in the morning
to jot down the poems hidden in the corners
of his city.
This was his secret life.


On his seventieth birthday he whispered,
I’m tired of giving birth,
and it seemed to be true.
His face was tired,
even his eyes,
and yet something continued to burn.
I’ve learned the secret
of fertilizing myself, he told me.
I supply both egg and seed.
But I’m tired of giving birth


At seventy-six
he took leave of this world
quietly,
as one would expect of such a modest man.
Presidents and prime ministers spoke at his funeral;
thousands gathered to pay their respects.
When he reached heaven,
he was greeted by his heroes,
King David and Shmuel ha-Nagid,
along with hundreds of his poems,
their flying letters swirling around him.

The angels, delighted to welcome him,
offered him a pair of wings,
but he declined, saying,
It’s enough if my words have wings.
Tell me, where are the cafés

Other souls
wander the streets of Paradise like tourists,
staring at the heavenly temple
or taking a seat at the back of Rashi’s class.
Not Yehuda.
He’s still longing for the ruins
of the earthly temple,
for the ancient stones of his earthly city,
for all the sheets hung out to dry,
flapping like sails in the wind.

Thoughts of her constantly fill my days,

Thoughts of her constantly fill my days,
Dreams of her torment my nights; 
Every time I close my eyes I can't breathe,
My insides, wound up so tight
And my heart stuck in my throat.

Wife asks, "What are you thinking about?"
"You, honey," I reply. A blatant lie.
Meanwhile, my lover snickers from the shadows
Of my mind, her soft hand trailing up my thigh.

Restless, I toss and turn; sleep eludes me
As I relive my delicious sin once again.
Her eyes were filled with passion, wild and free
Just once, I told myself, and my life as is would remain.

But it wasn't the case; now I long for more,
The weight and feel of her body on mine to explore,
To lose myself in his embrace and be found once more...
I want her as I've never wanted anyone before.

So many ways to say "I love you,"

So many ways to say "I love you,"
And more ways to show you I care
And what I wouldn't give to see
Your beautiful smile as you stand there
In front of me.

How many nights have I dreamt of you?
How many nights have I ached for your touch?
How many nights must I lie in my empty bed
Waiting for you, wanting you so much?

You always fill my days with joy, my nights with love
I know that you were sent to me from high above
The clouds, that I shall see one day
As I make my way to you, I pray
That I can make my home with you and stay...

Until then, I will let you know how special you are
To me, how much clearer I can see the stars
Through your eyes, how much I love you
I will adore you until the end of time...

And I thank God every day that you are mine

Vernacular of Love by the Bard of Bat Yam, Poet Laureate of Zion

So many ways to say "I love you,"
And more ways to show you I care
And what I wouldn't give to see
Your beautiful smile as you stand there
In front of me.

How many nights have I dreamt of you?
How many nights have I ached for your touch?
How many nights must I lie in my empty bed
Waiting for you, wanting you so much?

You always fill my days with joy, my nights with love
I know that you were sent to me from high above
The clouds, that I shall see one day
As I make my way to you, I pray
That I can make my home with you and stay...

Until then, I will let you know how special you are
To me, how much clearer I can see the stars
Through your eyes, how much I love you
I will adore you until the end of time...

And I thank God every day that you are mine.

Absence of Love

Like the ebb and flow of tides on the sea,
He rocks in and out of me.
In my mind, I lie on the sandy beach
Staring blankly at the waves, trying in vain to reach...what?

I feel nothing.

I turn my head, hiding my tears of fustration from prying eyes.
she knows something's wrong, sees the pain I can't disguise
But what can she do? She feels as helpless as I.
We grind and thrust to no end, I silently cry.

I am lost.

Go ahead and come, I tell her with my gaze.
Her concern is evident even as her hips raise
Against mine.Her eyes ask: What about you?
The familiar lie: It's all right, do what you have to do.

I feel cheated.

She is free to move, pounding me towards release.
I have no choice but to hang on, waiting for her to cease
And I weep inside for all I miss,
I drown in the sorrow that begins from the first kiss...

I am numb.

Yakota (Rav Yisrael Yakov Landau from Be’er Sheva) 27 Mordei HaGataot, corner of 18 Anilevich, Be’er Sheva Phone: 08-6232689 Opening Hours: Sun – Thurs : 12:00 – 24:00 Fri : 11:00 – 1 hour before shabbat

Yakota (Rav Yisrael Yakov Landau from Be’er Sheva)

27 Mordei HaGataot, corner of 18 Anilevich, Be’er Sheva
Phone: 08-6232689
Opening Hours: Sun – Thurs : 12:00 – 24:00
Fri : 11:00 – 1 hour before shabbat
Type: Meat
Price Range: I forgot to write it down, as I was so fascinated by what I was reading on the menu! Med- High range

Yakota is a Moroccan Restaurant in the fourth largest city in Israel – Be’er Sheva.

As you walk through the Old City looking for the restaurant, you finally come across a building where the windows are shaped in a Moroccan style and you realise – you found it! You walk into Yakota and there’s Moroccan designs on the walls and the table settings are in the same style. Only after leaving the restaurant, I noticed that there is a theater opposite it.

When I perused the menu some of this food seemed too daring even for me try! There were bulls feet(ker’a) and calf stomach stew (kersha). You could get spleen, veal tonsils, bull’s testicles, calf lungs.. I think you get the picture I’m guessing they promote nose to tail eating and therefore not wasting any part of the animal. Mind you, you can also order normal animal parts – as you will see.

The owner came out to help us with our menu selection. He’s the type of owner/chef that loves his food and clientele. His passion for food rubs off on his guests and you get swept up in the moment. He didn’t recommend any of the exotic dishes but something that we might enjoy.

As a starting point to the hidden banquet, we were served nine dips with Moroccan and normal bread. The breads were warm and soft and just fluffy goodness, even though they were flat.


different dips

The first dip was orange with a touch of rosewater, almonds and craisins. The flavor combinations were something my palate wasn’t used to and I thoroughly enjoyed them. There were soft Moroccan artichokes with subtle flavors and a hint of chili that wasn’t overpowering. I also might have detected some cardamom in this dish but I didn’t verify the flavor.

After this was sweet roasted capsicum containing a bit of spice. We then tasted the baba ganoush, where the smokiness of the eggplant didn’t outshine the other flavors. The Moroccan eggplant dip was also smoky but contained a slight kick to it. There was a normal plain tomato salad and some pickled vegetables. To finish off all these tastings (which were a meal in themselves) we had Moroccan vine leaves.


Pastia

Entree was Pastia. As the waitress brought out the dish I could smell my favorite spice cinnamon! Pastia is crunchy filo pastry filled with mushrooms, craisins and cinnamon with icing sugar on top. This has to be one of the most interesting starts to a meal that I’ve experienced in a long time. This entree was amazing in flavors and so different. I was excited for the Mains!


Main dishes

The mains we ordered were shared dishes, which we were happy about when we saw the portion sizes. We even had leftovers after the meal! First was a lamb stew. The lamb was falling to pieces- it was so tender because of the length of the cooking time. It tasted very lamby. The vegetables included were hard to taste, as the dish had been cooking all day.


Coscous

The second dish was veal in tomato with a bit of spice – and once again the meat just melted in your mouth. The couscous served on the side with sweet carrots and buttery pumpkin was delicious and it was a great way to soak up the amazing sauces from the two stews.

Dessert could’ve been a meal by itself, as there were two tiers of tasting cakes. One taster had a crunchy base with a sponge in it.


Dessert tier

The second cake contained peanuts which was sweet and crunchy with a slight bitter after taste. There was a cupcake with pink icing- I thought this one was for kids. There was one chocolate coating cake and a semolina pastry. There was another pastry with sesame seeds and sweet syrup and the last was a coconut meringue.

All I can say is that Yakota puts Darna in Jerusalem to shame! It’s definitely worthwhile making the trip to Be’er Sheva – only one hour by car from Jerusalem, or one and half hours by bus and a bit over an hour via train from Tel Aviv. You can walk to the restaurant from the train/bus station in Be’er Sheva or get a taxi, as they are cheap.

Gush Etzion Winery Tzomet Gush Etzion – adjacent to Alon Shvut Phone: 02-9309220 Opening Hours: Sun – Thurs 9:00-23:00 Fri 9:00-13:00 Saturday: 1 hr after shabbat – 24:00 (during winter)

At The Winery

Gush Etzion Winery
Tzomet Gush Etzion – adjacent to Alon Shvut
Phone: 02-9309220
Opening Hours: Sun – Thurs 9:00-23:00
Fri 9:00-13:00
Saturday: 1 hr after shabbat – 24:00 (during winter)
Type: Dairy

Brekkie – 39-98nis
Focaccia Sandwiches 39-46nis
Starters 30-68nis
Fish – 85-110nis
Salads – 23-66nis
Pizza – 52-58nis
Focaccia – 38/39nis
Pasta – 49-58nis
Specials 54-66nis
Desserts – 16-44nis

The winery is right at Tzomet Gush Etzion (or Tzomet HaGush), which is the perfect location for a stop in the region for breakfast, lunch or dinner. As you walk into the winery there are large wooden tables, walls filled with wine, Lavie liquor (some of the best liquor you can find), Tishbi jams and olive oil. I noticed subtle background music.


stuffed zucchini

The service was prompt. Water was brought to our table as we were seated, and our orders were taken quickly. We ordered starters and mains, the only mishap being that they brought them out together, apologising later for misunderstanding us.

Our waiter brought out sesame seed bread that was served at room temperature, with sun-dried tomato, dill and garlic butter that was delicious. The flavours of the butter were balanced really well.

Our first course was goats cheese zucchini, stuffed with whole wheat, rice, fried onion and bread crumbs with a hint of lemon and parsley. The zucchini was cooked separately with olive oil. You could see how it was caramelised. Yoghurt provided acidity and rice absorbed the flavours.


eggplant labneh

Our next portion was a labaneh eggplant dish. The labneh was home made and the eggplant was a bit acidic with a mild smoky flavour, and no bitterness could be detected . The cherry tomatoes balanced the flavours by adding some sweetness to the dish. Maybe a few more tomatoes were needed to add a bit more sweetness to remove the mild sour flavour of the cheese.


sweet potato ravioli

Our first main was sweet potato ravioli. This dish had a beautiful pasta dough that was rolled thinly and the sauce was delicious, containing finely chopped mushrooms in coconut milk. However there wasn’t enough filling in the ravioli and not enough sauce. Without the sauce the ravioli was a bit dry and I found that it dried out my mouth.


fish and chips

The St Peters fish and chips we ordered was served with multipe dipping sauces. The steak chips were slighty seasoned, not oily but weren’t crunchy. There were six pieces of beer battered fish, not oily and not overcooked. The fish had been pin boned and the beer batter added some sweetness. A clever touch was the rocket at the bottom of the plate to absorb and hide the oil. A spicy thousand island sauce and aoili with garlic and a mayo and lemon sauce were served on the side.


chocolate souffle

My main reason for coming to this restaurant was for the chocolate soufflé. It arrived piping hot from the oven, with a soft centre, a crunchy chocolate top and it was just delicious because it wasn’t overly sweet. It was a proper soufflé too – the top rises up from the ramiken – something that no other restaurants do in this country. So at least now you know where to find a proper chocolate soufflé.

This is a really nice restaurant to visit, only 15-20 minutes from Jerusalem. It has plenty of seating inside, a private dining room, outdoor seating and an events garden ,Kerem Tamar. They also offer wine tasting and tours of the winery.


Update 21/9/2015: Went back to the restaurant with 6 people on a Friday morning for breakfast and the service was really bad. It took a long time for water to come to the table, everyone’s food came at a different time when it finally did come. They did try to make it up by bringing a free dessert. I would think twice before coming back.

Goshen 37 Nachalat Binyamin, Tel Aviv Phone: 03-5600766 Opening hours: Sun- Thurs 12noon – midnight Saturday Night- 1 hour after shabbat ends – midnight

A very peppery meal


Goshen

37 Nachalat Binyamin, Tel Aviv
Phone: 03-5600766
Opening hours: Sun- Thurs 12noon – midnight
Saturday Night- 1 hour after shabbat ends – midnight
Type: Meat

First course – 22-68nis
Main course – 42-200nis

Goshen is a restaurant that is listed on all the foodie websites as one of the number one restaurants to go to in Tel Aviv. After living four years in Israel and wanting to visit it for a long time I final got around to going there.

As we walked in I straight way noticed loud music and kids running around. The restaurant wasn’t full, as it was early, so maybe it was ok for kids to do what they like? My attention was then drawn to to menu, where We decided to have the tasting menu, but there were a few gotchas: 1. everyone at the table had to have it and 2. there were a lot of entrées that weren’t included in the deal. We negotiated that 2 of the 3 diners would have the tasting menu and the other companion was able to order other food.


house salad


mushroom ravioli

The first entrée I tasted was the mushroom ravioli. I found the pasta not cooked al dente – it could’ve done with a an extra minute or two. The mushrooms were soft and the dish was a bit too acidic for my palate. There were some peas on the plate which added some freshness to the dish. A house salad was served, as part of the meal on the house. Initially the salad was very refreshing – especially when eating it with the ravioli, however, as we continued eating it, it became very hot/spicy from all the mustard seeds that were included.

The next entrée was chicken liver. Now I must tell you that I’m not a fan of liver, though I did try some and I found that it was tender and the raisins added some sweetness.


ceviche

The third entrée was ceviche. It was interesting as it had an Israeli twist – tehina. I would’ve called this entrée a salad, as rocket leaves were used effectively to add bitterness to the dish and were not chopped finely. I found that the fish wasn’t cut into small dices, it was cut into strips length ways and some of the membrane was left on. Coriander leaves were used, adding some freshness and pine nuts were also included. The bread served was a bit soggy – because it had sat under the fish for too long.

After we finished entrée, the plates were cleared except the ceviche plate. It also took a while for the main course to be served.


herb crusted fish

One of our company ordered for the Main, the Fish fillet in a herb crust – And it was not what we expected. The coating was basically pepper, which made it too hot to eat and we even found a bone in the fish. When you read a herb crust, you think of fresh green herbs like coriander, parsley, mint etc… – this was a complete disappointment.


tasting menu meats

The tasting main was grandly served on a hot plate that was placed on a stand with candles underneath it, that were meant to keep it warm. The kebab was moist with a peppery crust on the outside. The chicken was extremely hot, the entrecôte steak was cooked well, though no sauce was served with it. The merguez sausages were spicy – like they are meant to be, the spare ribs were maybe a bit under cooked. There were green beans which were again peppery and the roasted potatoes weren’t crunchy.

After a disappointing main we decided to press on with the desserts.


chocolate souflee

The chocolate soufflé was served in 2 little cups with a vanilla ice-cream. The soufflés were not overly sweet, they were runny with a bit of sponge at the bottom. A chocolate crumb was used as a garnish, but I didn’t think it was really needed.


cherry pie

The cherry pie had a thick crust and was very ordinary – I believe my grandmother makes a better pie.

I was severely disappointed by Goshen – I don’t know if it was because there was such a high expectation, after all the reviews that I read. Maybe the issue was I just went to Lumina (soon to have its review written) the previous night. Though I went to Meat and Wine a few nights later and I found that their food was better. Is Goshen just riding on their name and not doing more with their food? Is it that it’s just a meat restaurant? I went to Butchery in Be’er Sheva- also a meat restaurant and I found it better than Goshen.

The other interesting thing to mention is that they never supplied a jug of water, if we finished our glasses we had to get a new glass- I had never seen that before.

I think I’m the first person not to enjoy Goshen. If people have other opinions please write comment below. Maybe we just ordered the wrong dishes.

Pure Unadulterated Rapture by the Bard of Bat Yam , Poet Laureate of Zion Stephen Darori

Against my will
I was brought here. 
Kidnapped from my 
home;
my freedom,
my autonomy is no longer
my own,
but now it belongs to another.
To me he has become all things:
master,
commander,
dictator,
lover.
To his will I must adhere
for disobedience will result 
in a smack to my rear.
He likes to hold me down,
the strength of his wrists 
keep me good and bound.
One look into my eyes and 
I know what he means,
there isn't any need for so 
much as a sound. 
His kiss leads me to a state
of bliss,
his touch leaves me wanting
more,
all that he gives me is never 
enough.
He can be simultaneously
gentle and rough,
sweet and gruff.
He is both yin and yang,
wild and tame.
He takes me to levels where
I feel as though I can fly,
the way he makes me feel I 
could never, ever deny.
What started out as my 
capture has now become my 
pure, unadulterated rapture.

Summer Southern Comfort by the Bard of Bat Yam , Poet Laureate of Zion, Stephen Darori

Summer should not 
be ripe for sadness not
when trees toss their hair
like casual schoolgirls 
but stand otherwise still, 
cool in blind assurance
like feckless flowers 
or fruit waiting to fall
from the vine.

The world overflows 
with secrets but crows 
jeer no matter the season. 
I hear them laughing 
in the mornings knowing 
they will be fat 
as plums on the snow 
when our ground is frozen, 
our branches whip thin. 

I toss my hair and flutter 
my fingers but otherwise 
am still at the window. 
I can't pretend sovereignty 
over trees or plums but here
stories in squirrels, pines, 
dragonflies, nothing 
like people but animate 
them to feel something, 
to glimpse an uncle 
in the forsythia brush,
a grandfather shadow 
in slanting afternoon.

I've been meaning to tell you
that the sky is closer 
to the earth here. It's brighter, 
the clouds have more 
dimension. I've been meaning 
to tell you but I don't 
know who you are, 
just that you are fleeting 
as a butterfly wing 
or dandelion fluff.

When the moon rises 
I quicken the stars, beg
them to whisper my name,
gather tears in the palm 
of my hand and pretend 
they are mother's, sister's.
I fly into the night to comfort 
the moon and tell it we are
some kind of family.

The Rain Begins to Fall by the Bard of Bat Yam, Poet Laureate of Zion, Stephen Darori

As the two of us undress in 
front of smoky, gray skies I 
feel such a warm anticipation 
tingling between my thighs. 
She takes a hold of my hand 
and leads me into the lush, 
green wood, 
then she pulls me so close 
to him just like I knew she would. 
She gazes deeply into 
my eyes as she caresses the side 
of my face so gently.
I can see her love for 
me reflected in her eyes 
so clearly. 
The rain begins to fall 
down in a soft mist. 
She places her lips on 
mine and we start to 
kiss. 
I feel her fingertips trailing 
down my bare skin, 
the sensation lights my fires 
of passion deep within. 
The rain begins to fall down 
more heavily, 
drops slither down our 
bodies more steadily. 
Her  fingers tangle in 
my et hair. 
Oh, is this fantasy 
or is this real? 
She takes me down; 
to the ground. 
As our bodies intermesh 
I feel soft, moist blades 
of grass caress my bare flesh. 
Our lips meet in a 
passionate, luscious kiss, 
in this present moment 
I feel such exhilarating bliss.

A Loving Heart is the Truest Wisedom by Stephen Darori, Bard of Bat Yam, Poet Laureate of Zion

The Wisdom of the Heart
sits to my left not right,
perhaps inappropriately, 
but Henry Miller is sinistral
here though not unwise.

My wisdom is sitting nowhere
uncentered, snowflake swirled 
or ground fallen. 
Perhaps it will peek 
up again crocus-like 

when spring breaks
somewhat later in this town,
April being not a cruel month;
just days knitting my unravelled petals
back together, 

looking for a green bench,
momentarily empty,
but with enough slanted sunlight
to bloom.

Refreshing Rain by the Bard of Bat Yam, Poet Laureate of Zion ,Stephen Darori

Freshly showered 
raindrops tears 
wax wane unfading
my inner landscape 
merging cloudy two-seater miles
to a man in a hat and smiles
walking through aisles
automatic seatbelts click 
encircled in goodbye snap 
hello stairs Pad Thai 
kisses 

Now two regrets
rain small voices
wax wane unfading
the distant landscape
lifting clarity northeast
while my heart's two lobes
tangle in this dichotomy
of loss
of love

A woman closes a door.by the Bard of Bat Yam , Poet Laureate Of Zion , Stephen Darori

A woman closes a door.
You can’t see 
what’s behind it, maybe
a room or an ocean 
of chaos, pages, leaves
torn from books thrown. 
A woman

closes
a door and opens
a window. The Sun shines,
leaves have collided green
whispers the afternoon 
has passed 
a woman 

closes a book, distant 
traffic nearly 
tells the time she hears 
and looks down to the ticking 
leaves the room, 
a woman closes a door.

Let not Our errant cries by the Bat of Bat Yam, Poet Laureate Of Zion, Stephen Darori

Let not
Our errant cries,
Vain moments in this night,
Erase tomorrow’s clarity
(Regret).

There's an old house.by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate Of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) , Stephen Darori (#StephenDrus,#StephenDarori)

There's an old house. 
If you turn right from Jaffa Road, 
528 is smaller than memory. 
Bricks belong to strangers now 
and the dogwood a spindly shiver, 
bare brittle as my secrets buried 
beneath concrete, my foundation 
where 528 sets gray in brown. 
If you dig deep you might find 
the Indian penny I hid once 
upon a shiny day. 

Change greens with age. 
My initials are eroded in a web 
of cracked patio. Somewhere 
in winter wind you'll hear whispers. 
Grind of roller skates, flap of sheets, 
a careless singsong of girls disappearing through a screen door.

The atoms' screams in quiet air

How did she survive the empty chair
the noons that inch to eventide
the atoms' screams in quiet air

a roommate's sighs the aides who stare
but none who knew her at her side
how did she survive the empty chair

while wondering at who might care
the flat smile of a photo bride
the atoms' screams in quiet air

the cards balloons the proxy fare
of not enough and will collide
how did she survive the empty chair

callous time will even wear
a stone away thus we've eroded cried
the atoms' screams in quiet air

in rooms where no one hears your prayer
yet pull you slowly with the tide
how did she survive the empty chair
the atoms' screams in quiet air

Outing a Morning by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam) Poet Laureate Of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) Stephen Darori (#Stephen Darori, #StephenDrus)

I.
Percolated up from wild color dreams,
Jacked on fresh ground cafe,
A string of errands on easy street.

We walk down rickety stairs under nip in air morning,
All smiles code talking syllables do just fine,
Off we go--me driving head north into town
Pharmacy first, she heads in while I finish smoking over paper,
Soon reading mags--Rolling Stone 40th anniversary issue, great interview with Dylan, Perry Farrell, Rage Against the Machine, talking summer festivals.

She buys Shampoo, nail polish in bright reds and pinks, until Scripts ready and we amble out 80 bucks lighter, slide along the roiling river swelled by snowmelt and nor’easter remnants, next stop Thrifway market for broccoli, another pack of smokes.

Churn south around the riverbend, town coffee hub, a stop for bagels and muffins, back on Main street ending the circle, she says "I know you love me, but you like me too, don’t ya." I smile and nod with one eye on her and the other on the road, non verbal knowing with a full tank of realization.
As we slide past the Country Club, all snow now gone, and hang a left into the driveway.

Up the rickety stairs, provisions in hand, I let her go first and she calls me a gentleman. 

I toast my garlic bagel, sprinkle cayenne pepper on cream cheese, soaks up coffee quite nicely.

A day in the life, a moment in time, these days of first spring are of heaven born,
Me out in shorts and long-sleeved t-shirt,

Its music time, and I’m leaning toward something symphonic, Copeland it is--"Fanfare for the Common Man" with so much of the day still before us and we are glad for the time together evermore.

So it goes on the freedom trail...with a prank in mind to go kiss her with cayenne lips, and our tongues turn to talks brushing ever so sweetly, and yes hotly from the red ochre spice, but she's tough and feigns not knowing, and I wonder if her nipple would be so resilient against my heat.

Ravel's "Pavane for a Dead Princess" comes next, textured with aural color and we wash it all out in Debussy's "La Mer," the Sea boils up on battleship gray rocks.

A snippet of morning light and life, undercoated by joy and abandon, as the buds on many trees swell in violet and lilac and deeper lavenders.

Beauty in so many forms, gifts we exchange effortlessly, May is my month and I am lucky to find her so welcoming of my idiosyncratic vision, the way the cool air lays down upon my flesh, enough air to float the universe....across the connected sky.


II.
It's my month, too, 
I have to remind him. He grabs the front
end of May, a tiger wrestling crocus buds and pussy willow into being, but I snap 
with the tail of May's whip end, 
slide us into June, snap with the snapdragons, digging the bee drone, 
I dream coconut suntan lotion
served up with my birthday cake. 

May spreads out before us, possibilities clear and limitless as a cornflower Maine sky bright with golden trompe l’oeil clouds painted on the horizon. We peer out the door, then thunder down the wood steps, and I never drive when he's around. "Just give him the wheel and he's happy" a friend of mine used to say and, my God, it's true. And I the equally happy navigator, the carryall for directions, cigarettes, lighters, sunglasses, diet coke babble as we bounce down Main Street, "we should get a bed with a bookcase headboard, don't you think? And a futon for the guest room I don't know what we'll do if the kids all come at the same time." 

He's smiling, one eye on me rubbing his leg, 
telling him the skin is too dry, he must
use the patchouli lotion I bought him. 
His other eye studies the road, his ear 
tuned to WZON, which is steadily trashing Terril Owen. 
A brief lecture ensues: 
football etiquette and Terril’s utter disregard for it. 

The day proceeds. 

We smooch goodbye even though he's just going next door 
to buy a paper and smokes. He tells me not to buy green nail polish, and I threaten 
to paint HIS toes L'Oreal Leprechaun No. 1, 
but when I find him in the magazine aisle 
I have only purple and pink for spring toes, 
and he's lost in the latest Sports Illustrated. 

It's true, we're in love,
we're in like. The best of both worlds! 
The kissing heats and cools,
heats and cools, but the conversation 
is endless and endlessly fascinating, 
these plans and details mark our days, 
each outing another brick in the home we build in our hearts, rock solid and decorated 
with kindnesses; he opens doors for me, 
I make him coffee. May stretches out before us in a line of promises we’ll keep, some solemn, some frivolous but all snuggled, treasured
in our joined warmth, a world that has grown from these words on a page, to voices, to bodies and now our oneness, joined at the soul. 
Now us, and still the lilacs waiting to bloom.

When in Life there comes tears by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam), Poet Laureate Of Zion (#POetLaureateOfZion) , Stephen Darori (#StephenDarori, #StephenDrus)

When in Life there comes tears
With heart of sorrow and night
bitter rain
When in darkness of soul, or
shadowy realms of dream
you and I shall in hand
face all of life's trials and
every challenge answered.
Shall that gentle night come
swift then let shadow's quake
with the dawn shall all dark 
mirrors grow bright save one.
In my heart I shall never know
the light that brightens your
life in a glow so dazzling
as to enshroud my eyes in
death's own shadow. Without
the light you cast upon my
heart to a cold stone shall
all have become.
Why cries the night such 
Bitter tears.