Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and

When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old

One year since I traveled to paradise. One year since I laughed and danced with friends. One year since I watched

Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine

The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles

Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle

This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.

It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.

Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy

Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.

A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.

Life is like a dream A star studded sky A blink of an eye Oh, how life slips by. Life is like a song

My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,