I wish I could caper
Through lavender rich fields
Of Provence, fresh, clean scent
Clinging to my skin
Savor the taste
Of Bouillabaisse
Seasoned with bay leaf, garlic
And peppercorns
Prickling the tip of my tongue
I wish I could tarry
Rest beneath a fig tree
On a golden hill in Tuscany,
Burnished olive groves,
Vineyard valleys,
A refulgent canvas swathed
In topaz, sienna, and amber tones
I wish I could sing an Aria
As Queen of the Night
From Mozart’s Magic Flute
In a gilded, baroque opera hall in Vienna
Trilling notes glissading up and down the scale
Triumphant high octaves
A crescendo of sonic ascent
Do wishes come true?
I think not for me or
Do I dare not to aspire
A life of pleasure
Indulging the senses
Satiation:
The scent of lavender
The taste of hearty soup
The visage of warm colors
The consonance of tuneful melody
Aural, tactile, sensual, temporal
Do I speak such desires aloud?
Or do I stay mute
To the yearnings of my heart