How many sounds do you hear in her… And what is the color of her soul… Do you see her in the blazing oran… Or in the hope that comes a-dancin… Does the song she sings remind you…
To see the skies of tomorrow’s lig… Far beyond this sunset’s yearning Would turn the tides for sake of s… Setting the sail and mast to burni… Never you meant to see tomorrow
“Peter Piper picked a peck of pic… Peter Piper COULD NOT have pi… The tongue twister should be, (Pe… After all, if Peter Piper partici…
Crystal Sails on “The Golden Sch… Her rigging laced with silver thre… This ghost ship sails, (All hands… By the ghastly crew, now firmly de… Foggy harbors and misty coves
I saw a bird landing there, A whimsical thrush without a care, Upon that branch that bobs in the… With new buds sprouting, oh so nic… A whimsical Thrush without a care…
There once was a Wizard of old (At least, that’s what I’ve been… That could change a something to a… A wolf to a goat or a lake to a mo… From bad --- to very good weather.
I decided to write a sad love poem… the usual kind, it would lack the… passion, emotion, love, tenderness… betrayal, moonlight, midnight, sta… dreams, remembrances, and longing.
Rising above the hillsides Was the moon that is know as Blue And the Raven’s shadow spread Across gravestones, two by two. The graveyard trees had nary a lea…
Full Moon hangs in sky, Wolves howl, snakes slither, Frui… Stark clouds drift and cry. D. Thurmond / JEF —- 11-15-2015
The breezes carried the scent of h… To the nose, to the nostrils, of t… And she bounded for the trees, wit… Right past the cows and the sway-b… She dined with them, daily, near t…
“Blackbird, Blackbird, what’s the… “Caw, Caw,” was all he said Then he flew upon my head. “Blackbird, Blackbird, go away For on my head tis no place to pla…
The sign says “No Parking– AT… And yes, that means it is a crime. To ignore it and say, “Stick-it”,… Pay attention, and believe that st… No, the sign didn’t say, “You’re…
Night’s shadow descends Upon my window’s curtain As sleep consumes me. ***JEF The Ships of State sail Among many types of storms
The dark and billowing clouds Drift gently from the sea And the salty air and ocean sounds Surround my lonely Cypress tree. It is a song to the senses
There is no face that wanders past a mirror And does not look from time to time, within. And although sadness
