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Saturday, July 25, 2015


when my footsteps have slowed nearing
the end of my stroll on the path i’ve chosen
having smelled the sassafras and the pine
eaten the wild berries and cherries
my heart has beaten in sync with love
and my eyes have shed the tears lamenting
the departure of joy

i want to hear the sound of a running brook
o’er limbs and stones
rustling leaves on trees from the breeze
and the songbirds singing later ascending to leave
their silhouettes pressed against the clouds that
soar across a now softly painted crimson sky

i wish to sit and watch the dusk roll in quietly
then hear crickets and cicadas begin their
chirping attending in their celebration until
the veil of darkness descends to visit with
the hoot of the owl and the whispering, settling
of night and the nocturnal calm arrives

my head tilts upward to gaze at tiny pin holes of light
dancing about in darken space of the sky and
a lunar smile looks down upon the cricket and the owl
whilst my eyes begin their slumber and
all else sleeps   



Wednesday, July 22, 2015


my consciousness, my heart, my soul, is being melded
much to my disdain, against my conscious freedom of choice
by the stench of violence being perpetrated upon each other

we are angry, we are hating, we are no longer giving
value to life, to caring, to mother earth

all around those with power to make change are doing it
with destruction in their minds, in their hearts

i cry and sadness avails my soul when i wish to be joyful
because my heart aches, because my being is bombarded
by the destructive actions of man upon man and so
my 'being' reacts to this, not of my choice

if i isolate myself, insulate from what is happening around me,
i may experience temporary contentment but then, in
introspection, i wonder if my worth as a living being is of value

for now, i shall listen to music, i shall hear the whispering wind
outside my window and i shall gather my pup in my arms
kiss my love of life on her cheek while she sleeps
and hold them tight for at least this night

Sunday, July 19, 2015

bluebirds at dawn

in the dawn bluebirds sing

and the rain filled clouds afford

the day a full display of their

magic colored scarves with

the helping fingers of the sun


i know somewhere for some

this rainbow is not within view

but only the dark clouds and storms

and for them no bluebirds can be

heard, no dawning of a dream


i can only hope that the universe in its

chaos and tumult will bring balance

so that those in the dark will lay their heads

to sleep and someday they’ll awaken

to songbirds, witness a rainbow in the light

of dawn giving rest to the storm