Poetry: Lots of Mine Lately Edition

Like all the ones I put up here, it needs work. Sometimes I just get impatient. 

 

 

(Untitled) 

 

You are a pretty day
chestnut-tousled,
sticky rice

smelling sweetly of
alphabet and aliens.

Give you a flashlight
and you will find
the notes in a cup

of Irish Breakfast tea.

Smiling over the rim
you just woke up
to a complex, windy day.

Life as puzzle and painting,

dancing a one-acre plot.

Your grey-blue eyes
chart my movements,

my inaccuracies and moods.

You are my Jiminy Cricket,
my gypsy conscience,

my comma and following sentence.

-RPJ