She knew I knew her unknown thoughts and things kept well from sight like umbrella moon – a sweet perfume as pure as delight And when the night-time hovered and the evening showed its face I knew right then that she would send with elegance and grace Her beauty and compassion her feeling of supreme … Continue reading Umbrella Moon
Regret – regret – a dreaded thought the solitude of soul desired by the darkest cloud a lonely place to grow The fence impaled slowly – a gradual affect barely noticed by the throng unlikely to reflect The light that glistened on the sea the sun – it stayed to watch the dance planned out … Continue reading Regret
Belief – it comes in many forms and lends itself to thee a shutter-stock of pictures in a world of wizardry It is a world one cannot see and (surely) cannot touch the make-believe of timelessness of divinity and such Though one is told one should believe - as iron-clad as steel only the strongest … Continue reading Belief
It may have been a whistle stop to some (but not to me) It may have been there all the while beside the avid tree And when the seasons changed – and the sunset turned to day The deciduous and evergreen invited all to stay They shaded thoughts of yesteryear and thoughts yet to apply … Continue reading The whistle stop
The misty rain fell through the day and left her smile (torn) The deluge fell but for a time and left her beau (well-worn) And as the sun returned to face the day (all but a blur) Their eyes would meet their hands entwine – what will be – once was (they were)
Tomorrow comes when the sun gives in to the moon and warrants your forgiveness as the darkness comes too soon Your presence means the world – your smile envied so and enlightens what once was void the essence of forego The sacrifice of warmth returned and thoughtfulness well told and when the sun returns to … Continue reading Tomorrow
Our leaders think they know it all The limelight it keeps them enthralled They know what is best As they lecture the rest Yet flat on their face they will fall.
Norm was a fisherman down at the pier He’d swill whiskey all through the year One day he sorta Fell into the water And that was the end for old Norm, the poor dear
The wind was blowing like blazes But I knew that it wouldn’t faze us My hair flew in the air I said; I don’t care I’ve got more in my bathroom next to my razors
I was walking on the pathway by the highway near the ocean when I saw a tidy park-bench so I thought I’d take a break As I sat there on the park-bench near the ocean by the highway I saw the shaded profile of a woman closing in Her hair was flowing freely – over … Continue reading By the highway near the ocean
sensualism 