Opening bell in morning skies, Silent colors coming into view, Pastels blazing behind the dark, Midnight grasping at the last stra… Darkness melting upon the burning…

Blessed air from ancient islands a… down from heaven with trumpets sou… music of the cherubims swirling th… as the voice of the angels speak f… speaking from pure thoughts with s…

Poor house utopia; a contentment arising from the house built in the soul that determines how many goods are still desired and what are enough. Satisfaction comes from the result of tha...

A Summer’s Scene Country meadows bowing to the sun With grasses heading upward on the… Willow trees smiling at the brooks Maples shading stately manor overl…

Wholeness Affliction to the body As well as to the soul Intensifies when unheeded When it is thought as being

The ongoing battles with the welln… are the never-ending wars inside h… The inevitable attacks that never… are of the devil’s arming itself with spears and battle-axes

So near but far away, a cherished… a paradise in the mind and soul, a place that can be touched and fe… a place encased inside cerebral fe… with pent up revelations to be fou…

Carnal Wanderings He traversed across searing desert… Through peaceful villages Driven by a blind madness Extinguished only by

Angels are in her eyes and the dev… with room for both to come inside… Heaven comes down into her gentle… and the devil’s in charge of her w… Her skirts are up high for the eye…

Up ahead along the country road, Thru’ the clearing of Maple’s abo… Where the winding around a certain… Becomes my winding, my forestial f… Though it’s someone else’s, it’s a…

A hard fought game is comprised of winners; those who play up to their potential. They have confidence, self-esteem, and ambition. Even the losers are winners, in order for the game t...

My Friend’s Passing My friend, where have you gone? To lofted fields or stately manor’… Where white doves flap their quiet… In the realm of the Godly as moth…

With my feet dangling above the clouds, my eyes fastened to their languor, their silky wings, their lazy drifting along,

The Rich Poor Man His pockets were empty But his head held high His soles were worn out But his soul was intact