Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…

Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.

Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go

Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often

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,

As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.

One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…

In the still night In the silence, My soul begs, My mind to rest. It’s story told

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

Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos

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

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

Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another