.

In a dream of night before me rose
I walked along an endless shore;
moist sand glowed a silvery pink,
danced to lights in the waning sun;
its length moving, curved around
dotted stars in the form of a heart.

I peered ahead and looked behind,
shifted my gaze from side to side;
waiting to catch a glimpse of you
and fall within your gaze as you
engaged my eyes in an embrace,
but only feel the sighing wind.

Today your mind is
Hovering in a new place
That we can't get to

I have seen the stoney fields
grow into forests of dark pines
then cut clear for lumber's yields
becoming tangled brush and vines.
This is something I have seen.

I've watched as two lanes became four
and box stores sprang like spring mushrooms
as country quiet turned into roars
of cars rushing toward their dooms.
I've watched asphalt supplant the green.

No poem leaves my desk today,
no words written, no thoughts on life,
a silence, like the snow falling in my head,
a softened fall.

All white the sheet of paper, blank and sour
it scowls at me, 
I'm pure it seems to say,
do you now dare to use my surface for your gain,
abuse me with your name.

How dare you touch my pristine light, 
to smudge a sentence, 
soil my only dream 
to stay completely clean. 

Wanted:

a place to fit my craggy face
ornery corners
and slumpy chair

a windowless house
without stares
to embrace
my unbecoming

I watch
as life starts to leave
me behind

Each day
unfolds its neverending
glory, little by little
youth is another creature
ravenous its hunger
consumes everything

The minute joys
encapsulated in each day
should be savoured
taken in small bites
and rolled around your mouth

Life is passing me by
but I sit here holding
ribbons of life
stroking them through
my hands
each beautiful strand
Is a moment of joy ....

What was a joy,
'twas once a toy,
a clever tool used for amusement;

was but a lark,
but then the bark,
began falling on the pavement.

Vulnerable outside,
gave a glimpse inside,
what was a bag of tricks;

other methods used,
unbalanced, and confused;
now I've much more wax than wicks.

At times amazed,
sometimes unfazed,
tree's branches bend, and relax;

the roots are deep,
but the grades more steep,
the leaves on the ground hide the tracks.

I took the sweep of the weeping willow
To scatter your memory, as gently as I could
I failed, there was a sound from my soul,
that told the willow fronds not to brush so

I cried a storm, to wash away the tears of yesterday
Yet your Spirit built a sublime river with it.
Teach me to remember with grace your ways.
Whisper in my mind that you are there for always.

it is my
my philosophy

that one should
pound.
pound
their reader.

understanding that when they/the (reader) { U }
are/is reading your work
you are

pounding them
from within their/your brain, you are
pounding them

slowly hard
hardly fast
gent please
fasten your
gentlemen
gent gleee
hard more
soft roar
hard core.

that one should pound
one should pound
you should pound.
pound
philosophy.

pound is my
philosophy.

Opening up

falling

Trusting

fallen

Regretting

broken