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

Come with me To the mountain top, Where the crest touches The sky And the air so pure,

Old friends walking on the beach, the waves bring in, memories, of carefree days;

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

I do believe, to give to others lends meaning to our lives. To be there

Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,

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

Summertime gives A chance to grow Under the sun, Travel, to new places And have some fun.

Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people

First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds

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,

Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry

On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes

If I could go back in time I would fix my wrongs, I would sing new songs And mend all hate And open the gate

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as