Jasmine, Pine and Bosom’s Warmth

 

Echo’s harmony, singing wistful poetry;
Squirrel’s barking, chasing shadows mocking daily drudgery;
Jasmine, pine, fragrances a mystery, leaving unsuspecting memories;

Waking flashes chasing dreams, a patchwork quilt of uncertainty;
Custard shadows, soft creases, Comfort’s unwitting masters;
Crystal blues, magnetic attractions pushing past softened smiles;

Restive dew, glittering, clinging to Whisper’s song;
Breathless flittering, caressing leaves, recalling silken hair;
Golden reflections, Bosom’s warmth mimicking;

Ebbs and flows rushing, uncovering forgotten gems;
Mystery abounding, passion questioning Destiny’s resting place;
Knees faltering, seeking certainty, misty lashes hinting;

Leaves rustling, drawing wanting glances;
Innocent glances, querying reflexive memories;
Unexpected pondering, of jasmine, of pine, of Bosom’s warmth;

Chance waiting, guarding soften harmonies;
Squirrel’s barking, drudgery plotting, Passion wandering;
Crystal blues, soften smiles and silken hair harkening;

Hearts awakening, thinking certainty;
Gems sparkling, overshadowing morning dew;
Poetry anew, of blues, of custard, of creases, of misty lashes.

Love abounding, caressing passions due;
Custard shadows, soft creases foretelling Comfort’s satisfaction;
Soften smiles, crystal blues assuring, Echo’s harmony singing blissful poetry.

William Anton Lee
2013, July 20

© 2013

Published by: Willi-Anton Christopher

Born Willi Anton after my Mom's brother and Father, respectively, I grew up Willi to my father's Billy Boy and grandfather's Bill. We had other William variants in the generational family, a Will, and a Billy Sandy. Our weekend's at the family "ranch" in Deer Park, CA, near St. Helena and Angwin, were an exercise in orchestrated choruses of "who me". I walked off a plane in Sacramento, preparing to enter high school alone. When my caretakers asked what I wanted to be called, Bill came out very easy, very unplanned. My father who joined me months later asked me - why Bill. I had no real idea. It was a spontaneous announcement on my part. Dad was a 20-plus army guy who was "Sargent Lee" wherever he went who at 40-plus was still called Billy Boy by his Aunts. Grandpa was the only persona that was allowed the standalone name of Bill. So it was, Dad called me William. I practiced his formal signature which was William. My high school life, college life, and professional life, found me known as Bill. In these waning years I have gotten comfortable being Willi Anton Christopher, as I took up prose and poetry. Christopher is the name I chose for myself, my Catholic Confirmation name. Ironically, a few years later the Church de-canonized St. Christopher. I kept the name - it reminds me of the humility and strength attributes I sought to emulate in my spiritual life, in my life lived. So no you know.

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