Note keys float out
swamp leaves, slit open,
hang out by green string.
Black notes,
A, B, C, float dark nightly,
lightly
through a
new moon’s ear piece.
A mad need, I am
bad seeds
planting roots
in last years’ moon beams.
Spread eagle.
Tongue tied,
sublimely.
The serene swamp sings.
Wants me
buzzing,
dripping golden honey
with springs yellow bees.
I asked the love beat
to swim,
stark,
bare feet
jealous oak trees watching
each move
melodically down stream
whipped cream
skin
dipped in a breeze.
A wet dream
for an
old, dry oak tree.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 
I appreciate you liking my small poems. I read some of yours. Wow! You were blessed from God with a gift. Thanks for sharing that with me. Sallie
This poem is abeauty
I really like this – don’t quite know why! It slips in beneath the radar of reason.
🙂 Simon! Always a pleasure!