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

Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.

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

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

Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon

You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own

What if, The simple things In life, were the Most important Events.

Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure

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

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

Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,