Copyright 2023
Copyright 2023
When the circle breaks
Fast money is not on you
So it is
So it will always be
Unless you see
A need
For change
To those who know
There is no doubt
Where the water flows
There is an out
Slipping through cracks
Moving where it wants
Abusing,
Absolving,
Cleansing,
Before it moves on
Disinterested
In what has occurred
Finding new sources
For its merriment
And
Ultimate pleasure
Regurgitation is fine
For birds
But in life
It shows a lack of creativity
Making one despise
The power of public praise
Conspiratorial,
Envious,
Arbitrary,
Jealous,
Petty,
Boring,
That pretty much says it all
Copyright 2023
Words
More words
And even more words
Poured forth
Issuing summons
Creating a path
As we wandered by the lakeshore
Listening to the waves
And the leaves on the trees
Ushering in a new day
You in your heals
On a slippery slope
Dodging the rain with every step
All in search of easing the mind
For once someone was listening
In tune with the moment
Seeing equality
In a world full of sounds
Copyright 2023
There are things i hear
There are things i see
There are things
That I feel that I need
These things inspire me
Won’t you come and
Spend some time with me
Art galleries and
Variety shows
Rock formations
Found down at the shore
These things inspire me
Won’t you come and
Spend some time with me
Campfire sing along
Moonlit nights until dawn
Wind whispering across the sand
The first time I held your hand
These things inspire me
Won’t you come and
Spend some time with me
Copyright 2023
On a journey
Together
On a path
Something happening
Powerful
A connection
Silence
Terror
Joy
A full range of human emotions
A meeting of the minds
Accepting the disparate
Accepting the outsider
As one
Seeing more than anyone else
Had seen before
Jazz and blues and flamenco
And words written to explore
You can’t burn out if you’re not on fire
Copyright 2023
All Rights Reserved
I saw a mouse in the woodpile
Well aware of the morning frost
Setting fodder aside for those days
When going outside would be a loss
The fence hums in the gusting wind
Sending shivers down my spine
Reminding me to not be alone
When the storms arrives with its full mind
A cricket chirps by the fireplace
It makes me wonder what they eat
How long can he survive in a house
Will he live without the growing heat
Copyright 2023
All Rights Reserved
She floats along the path
Heading for the cool autumn water
Hair flowing like shooting stars
On their celestial journey
She pauses and waits
For her furry companion
Where she contemplates
Being out in the cold moonlight
Barefoot she continues
As the icy morning dew envelopes
Her steps,
She feels no pain
Shedding her clothes,
She steps into the depths
In the morning I walk to the shore
I sit and wait for the midday sun
Illuminating a path
And reason with my heart why absence
Makes the heart grow fonder
Copyright 2023
All Rights Reserved
Recently I was informed that someone I knew quite well at one time in my life, was felled by an obscure type of cancer. Over time we drifted apart and our friendship was over with. Upon hearing of her death I had time to reflect back on our time together and I wrote this.
Another Lifetime I Never Knew
The wind whispers soft and low
Beating branches keeping time
While the sound of the whip poor will
Offers comfort to my mind
The day is heavy amidst the clouds
The cornfield sways and rattles its leaves
And in a corner of my mind
I picture you lying there fast asleep
I am told in time a heart does mend
Maybe after a few winters come and go
There are words I could have said
There are decisions I will never know
So now I walk through the fields
Through the woods and past the stream
To the lake where waves do grow
Beating me about my knees
And in the morning I will have
A one sided conversation once again
Hoping to find answers I never knew
As I spend another lifetime with you
Copyright 2023
All Rights Reserved
Watching waifs wonder when
Wishing women wistfully whittle
Wicked ones whisk wildly
Without worrying wedding wrath
Wireless wiretaps working witness
Windswept wasteland without weed whacking
Whistling wildfires wrangle woodpiles
When working writers weaken
Copyright 2023
