Sunday morning
Old window shades
Slicing sunlights,
Father and mother
With Buddha face
And breeze voice
Opened my salty sense
Immeasurable love
Like sunlights
Cozying my heart.
Saturday evening
Clam chowder and clam stuffed
For my borhter and his wife
Their fresh shispers
With hands eyes and smiles
Tickle my sweet dream,
her convex stomach
That her hand has been rubbing
And his mind keeps on watching.
Love seats make people happy
Not on ly who sit
But also who will sit.