Once in a while I hear words that… Most times I let ‘em go by, but s… Seconds turn into hours, so I liv… Dive deep into words, words as dee… Things I’ve wanted to say since t…
I wonder. I wonder. I wonder why it goes. I deny it, try to fight it
Dim lit, damp and distant corner torn from dream of vapor’s fold. Slow descent to worlds divided, nothing hot and nothing cold. Long ago this soul forgotten,
My heart aches with no reason why. Though things are fine, these tear… Those I know don’t understand and half the time I’m just like th… I’ve searched and sought.
With childhood eyes reflecting. Clear mountain day remembering. Fresh cut hay reviving. Together we’d play, etching memories never to be forgotten.
So much time I now spend, watchin… Watching as others pass by, living… Living their lives. I watch not for the care of wantin… or even so mush as to learn from w…
An old porch swing made once for t… Cool night breeze calling out to y… Ten thousand memories rise above, the sunset waters of our love. Just like the day slips into the n…
This is the reason I do what I do… A rhyme, a song in shades of blue. Connections made to a million ties… The longing stare of a million eye… Peering out from the darkness, sou…
This world of ice. Forged in frozen sheets, layer upon layer. So many attempts to thaw, daily melting.
Was Earth created by God’s hand a… when scientific findings seem to d… Is it possible that all things for… The odds against are infinite so,… For no one thinks a tool exists wi…
I sat today midst the happy smiles of a children’s song, and for just… I was happy too, for what else sho… from a happy day and a happy song. But, it came again just like every…
It feels kind of like someone gave… mixed for the purpose of stamping… Slipped like a Mickey when I was… Slammed down the hatch and now all… is, “I don’t know why I feel noth…
We wait for what we long for, we long for what we need. Impatience and anxiety give root to errant deed that grows to yield but heartache,
When your choice is Coriantumr or… does it matter what the answer is? It’s kind of like Russian Roulett… you lose no matter who you get. To die by fire or die by ice.
A million ways to spend a day not tried them all but have to say… that if I had the way to when I’d quiet find and open then the pages of the poet’s hand.
