Million Miles (older poem)

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And this is me

a million miles from here,

under pastel parasol shading,

toying with the Rhododendrons, white, pink

but feeling blue waiting for you,

and you,

you would appear

as sure as the swelter of my day created

the longing for my knight splendor you are

have become

consuming the quill of my resilient night

baring the fruit from where I desire no endurance to flow my want

and I would say yes out loud

if you were but not a million miles adrift

so come join me on this winters bite

feel the heat with me too.