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…
The morning’s Sun peaks From behind black faced skylines That wait to be seen. Then the Rooster crows In hopes of waking others
There’s a melody that fills my sou… And it plays upon my mind, The tune is soft and always full, But words for it I do not find. A soothing song to ease my woes
As dreams take flight in another s… That does not come by way of eyes; In twilight dreams and deeper scen… Are heard the screams and mournful… Some dreams ring true from out of…
Under an Oval Moon, a gold Doubl… Fell heavily upon the ship-lap bar… A man with a hook instead of a han… Wiped sweat from his brow and utte… “We’ll have rum laced with lime.
Along the fourth day of wisdom I found Chance She wasn’t someone that I really cared to know So I made excuses
While gliding down that last great… Comes the shrill voice of the Fal… And the soul reaches out for a com… Called the Weave of the Dreamer’s… Not so long had the spirit fled
What the mind conceives From books and dreams And visions conjured deep in cloud Shall never fetch the love of fait… 'though love shall speak of faith…
On the Christmas night When the full moon rose I felt a chill From my head to my toes And deep in my heart
Cousin Wilber built an outhouse, But it’s not like all the rest, Its varnished oak, cedar lined, And engraved with the family crest… He’s got a turbine vent on top
Cast those souls to seas of slumbe… Just past the gates of vacuity, So they may sail a clipper, swift, Beyond horizons to nullity. Nullity holds no love or hate,
If I could paint a pristine scene Using words from my mind Then I would word a whispering br… In an English garden, Willow line… And if I could build a place to d…
She says she always falls For the wrong kind And she has cried foolish tears For every one. “My choices will be different,
I do believe the whole affair Was an adult, contrived, mess. There I was in an armored suite And shaking in distress. I was not meant to be a Knight
“The Sleeper” has docked Near the schooner, “Lanore,” As “The Raven” steams north Past the fog laden shore. “The Bells” on the buoys
