Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.

Leaves falling, Another season Decorating the earth. One red leaf In my path,

Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.

Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,

Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset

The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free

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

If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,

The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down

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

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

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

Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the