I stare at the yellow roses because I like to look at beautiful things. I dream of close encounters. I’m a Libran ruled by Venus. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I’ve been in love with a songbird in the Spring. I’m cutting edge and experimental like something that drove the natives out of New York a long time ago. The naivety of Cupid, shooting from the lip, the rocks in Romeo’s hand thrown at the window. There is love out there for me, and when it finds me, all the fantasies will sink like Atlantis. A boy’s wet dream.
Peter Yowie Poetry