Mother Nature of two faces, seas with glassy roofs and easy ga… seas with melodic whispers and rhythmic rolling, then seas of the swirling labyrint…
The Gap Young and old grow further apart Life was grand then so we depart Into days of memories so forgotten Of brotherhood and its love begott…
It was a sad day when William Blake shot himself in his library. When the police arrived at his home shortly after his wife called him, they found most of his books lying on the floor w...
Close but not close, touching but not touching, skin to skin but air to air, sight to sight but blinded eyes, revolutions sealed inside,
My soul is a mystery to me. It lies in judgment as to what should inspire me. It selects certain harmonies in music that move me and the ones that don’t. I have no control over it. ...
Damn spam scam plan man smart phone calamity man Sam stationed inside the phone to scare the hell out of you is throwing a conniption
Loving disciples of the holy order below the bottom of the empyrean where reverence is not yet reveren… where demonic angels set out to ru… where the clouds are teetering on
The severing of the ties with Eng… As the people rose and took a stan… No more British rule from so far… And mandatory laws that they must… If they don’t know as to what thei…
As the quiet sky sits still, We stretch our imagination And think of the Proper name to call it. “Ha ha,” it laughs out loud.
Aerial fires lighting up the sky Torches burning upward high Rising up through the earthly gate… Into the sky as the meadow waits Fanfare for the yawning of the mor…
Long Shadows Long shadows spell winter’s bound Into a cool night brings autumn ‘r… Go to sleep precious days of warmi… Never to feel how winter’s forming
Mother Nature, the grand lady of nature, renowned for her reliability, her abilities to restore the livin… as the seasons drift into the next…
Supplications Like arid gardens but Tears so drenching Of sorrow so imprinted in the soul Of desperation speaking
One of my favorite musical compositions is Stravinsky’s “Firebird,” written for a ballet in 1910. I can imagine what it is about by listening to the music and letting it take me on a jo...
Beauty Runs Together Beauty, on its exalting mission Like a pack of wolves but yet so g… Taking the common to its new embel… Moving it up to the paradise of dr…