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To Bobby, Where I'll Find You

In this Garden
	where you Rise,
	where I know you Best

other flourishes take place
amongst dancing Perennials.

Simpler Beauty rests
upon those fragile Petals
	of Untouchable Caress

as to feel
	Velvet, so has one
eluded upon

Your Gift to be held only
in that Magic wrought
from the Loins of Wonder,
     Dream-State thoughts . . .

	in their essence of Forbidden.

Where are you, my Brother?

My heart aches and searches across the scented hilltops
	to fall upon, discovering, enmeshed within
of grass so fine and visioned through such thickening Mist,

your Spirit riding high above, cresting the tops of swaying Wild Flowers
into a Garden
	only God Can Touch.

To Bobby, who loved to grow things

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