A tiny mouse
built her house
next to the hearty cornfield.

Come summer days
she plans buffets
and gleans the season's yield.

She picks corn
at crack of morn
then boils a pot of water.

With a shout
without a doubt
invites everyone and their daughter.

Crowds arrive
at half past five
with salt and melted butter.

By ten till six,
bellies like bricks,
they're all too stuffed to utter.

Now banquet ended
and waists extended,
the sluggish rise to roam.

Uncle Johnny, Uncle Johnny
He had a farm and a pony
He played every evening
Old piano while light dimming
His only listener was aunt Conny

Uncle Billy, Uncle Billy
Lived the way pirates are willing
He had a ship dinghy like
And the smoking pipe
And a parrot called Willie

Aunt Mary,oh, Aunt Mary
She smelled like olive and rosemary
She cooked deliciously
Knitted skillfully
And was adored by Uncle Larry

Self inspection
A chance to take apart
The depths of the soul
The crevices of the heart.

To examine the imperfections
And the blemishes of life,
To understand the motivations
And the innermost strife.

To look for the good in ourselves
But also for the bad,
To challenge our assumptions
And the imperfections we've had.

To face the fears that hold us back
And the doubts that can grow,
To accept the parts of us
That are incomplete, the parts we know

Alone she stalks the darkened streets
No sun for her, no light,
No azure skies, no drifting clouds,
Black, everlasting night.

Hunger burns into her soul,
If soul she does possess,
For centuries she has hunted nights
Sought soft throats to caress.

As darkness falls, to slake a thirst
Up from the grave she'll rise;
White as the marble embracing,
Lust, hunger in black eyes.

We are the children of sunny god Ra,
Anubis rules where it is darkness so far,
Yarilo is back and fights for the power,
And Aphrodite gives all the strength for a lover
And red-haired Loki tricks and defrauds,
And to the moon Wolf God howls...
Moira spins Thread of Destiny,
Time as sand passes bit by bit
Sumerians Tower is under construction...
Seems like Pompeians are waiting for erruption,
Charon drives the boat across river Styx
And Zeus with Perun have vodka and chips,
Gets a light Feb from the Sun

The street where I grew up,
Was full of joy and happiness,
Laughter and cheer and so much more,
A place I felt secure

The street where I grew up,
Will stay with me forever,
The friends I made and the games we played,
Those days were truly special.

The street where I grew up,
Was like a second home,
Our neighbors were always there for me
And I never felt alone.

They told you time would heal, and you’d forget.
That there’d be no remorse and no regret.
And hearts they'd torn apart would one day mend.
Yes, you believed their lies and so did send

your father; he knocked boldly on my door
for property, of yours, he had come for.
Cruel courier, content with callous crime,
who smiled to see true love run out of time.

My favorite book sits in the middle of my book shelf
I finished it the other week, but something doesn't feel the same
I go back and re read my favorite chapters sometimes when i miss it
Maybe one day I'll pick up a different book and discover the beauty of it
But i don't think i am ready to let go of the beauty of this one
I still read this book, even though i know the ending will stay the same
I still read those chapters
OUR chapters

The rain was pelting the nylon
as thin as the summer leaves above.
Even in that unfriendly dark, I felt safe
when my skin was peeled back
in a flash of light that drowned shadows,
ripped the steady hush of a shower
with a bone snapping crack
precursing lighthouse pulses,
rolling tremors of hunters
splitting the night

Next morning, I went down to the shallow lake
found a rivulet that cut its way into the sand
And in it, the diamond ring you let slip
from the finger that held you back

The grasp of flaky bark holds strong
My hands while pulling to ascend;
Each step avoids the brittle song
Of cracking that would bring my end.

I hit a branch and strike a knee,
Which causes it to bleed and bruise;
Still I keep climbing up the tree,
While getting panoramic views.

Then perched up high, I look around
To see what eagles would behold;
The place where wind’s the only sound,
And lakes below all gleam in gold.