Accused of living in my own
sense of reality
By a Colombian colonel dressed 
rigid white white with gold braid
and Spanish glazed mustache.
He moonlights as one Heaven's guard.
I shan't see him again

She pouted, "You don't know the meaning of Love."
Crocodile tears and my sheets packed.
Yes I do! Yes I do! jumped the words
It is clearly defined in the Encyclopedia of Sharing
luv: joy within the drops of moments never ending 
      see also; rain, storms, waves, dorcas and tangerines 

 

  Border Crossing January 2002