WILLIAM BLAKE

In another lifetime,
I was William Blake.
When I saw his work,
That was my take.

He wrote about love
And the human heart.
I thought I was him,
Right from the start.

He wrote about London,
Tiger burning bright.
His influence looms
In whatever I write.

He wrote about life,
The human abstract.
I hope I was him,
I hope it is fact.

I flatter myself
To think I was him.
Deep down I know,
The chances are slim.

His mystical presence
Burns like a fire.
To be like him
Is to what I aspire.

(Published by The Society of Classical Poets Literary Journal February 11, 2018)

MY FRESH AIR

As I wake up each morning
I breathe in my fresh air
I remember you are with me
I love that you are there

Whenever I think about you
It takes my breath away
I breathe a little easier
To know you’re here to stay

So breathe on me my lady
And love me if you can
Your love leaves me breathless
I’m your ever lovin’ man

You are like a precious stone
So rare beyond compare
Loving you is as easy
As breathing my fresh air