in our happy hour 

                                                      

  in our happy hour

  blooming among wild tulips

   sappily sprung in spring – 

                       *

   fresh April showers fall,

  sweeten earthy sluggish veins –

    riffs of birdsong wake

                        *

       liminal lovers

    on the season’s bare threshold,

     shivering off the cold –

                          *

    shed our chrysalis clothes,

      winter’s pale accessories,

        emerging nude, fresh –

                            *

    limitless like love

    shaken from hibernation

        in our happy hour

                                                                    __________________
                                                                                                            freddie omm , april 2017

sexy, slightly scary (her sweet self)


She’s sweet like a friend

Yet sexy, slightly scary

Like no one other

                 *

You like her. She smiles

The smile of one who knows that

That liking you feel

                  *

Likes her for her self

Like she wishes she could too

But she doesn’t like

                  *

Like herself… She says

She can’t explain how she likes 

What she likes in words

                  *

She has this dream

In which she merges in her

Lies of love with others like

                  *

She’s living some truth

Neither selfish nor selfless

– Like her to be both –

                  *

Sweet, wholesome, love-scarred

And sexy, exposed – scared that

She’s just like herself

                  *

But is not herself –

Like no one else is oneself:

We’re like each other.