About Five

I’ll see you in the cafe about five,

I’ll wait for my voice to stop in,

You’ll take the day off from importune questions.

Your eyes will betray that you’re thinking of something

Too big to cope with on your own,

so I’ll

Take your hands,

and I’ll

Turn your tears

Into years gone past,

and I’ll

Put them in my latte,

and make them talk.

And then we’ll go on a long walk by the lake,

Over the rounded stones

And the bones of ignorance.

Euphoria is just like a latte,

Bliss is just a stone’s throw


My heart is boiling

And I’ve lost all my pretensions to the one

I love the most dearly,

My companion for all eternity:

An exculpable goddess of abundant felicity.

If I can say the right things,

However clumsily,

And we can do this often enough,

We can share this latte,

When we do,

At about five.


Welcome to my blog, Luckiesblog.com.  I’m starting off with poetry, the best of which may propel and promote the site for the public.  Have a nice read!




The Sylphing

She bathes in the morn,

in the dew of delinquence,

she hides within torches and flame,

she stirs up the passions

of lovers and liars,

she puts effervescence to shame.


Faster than the quick of light,

beyond what you can see,

she’ll leave and be gone,

to see the next dawn,

and be back in time for tea.


To say that her doings

are doings undone,

is like leaving her time and again,

when autumn leaves fall

from the boughs of the elm,

and the fields are full of grain,


she’ll speak of a vision

in darkness at dusk,

and eat of the honey and pear,

then she’ll kiss you and tell you

the oak and the holly

put sand in the locks of your hair.


She’s like a raindrop, soft and sweet,

tall and thin, like shafts of wheat,

she’s clever and curious,

and ever so serious,

and she’ll take you down with deceit.


If you come out at night,

she will say she saw

you steal a star from the sky.

If you hear someone singing

up over the hill,

you’ll know that the sylphling is nigh.

—by Michael S. Oakes