Humble steps I take,
All fear left in my wake,
In the poolside
By the lake.

Joyful visions fill my mind,
With every step to peace,
Eradicates the hatred,
So unkindness leaves.

Proud trees flank this path,
Branches canes for the weary.
And the birds trill,
As contagious as a grin.

Mocking the shadows,
That darkens heart's terrain.
But to turn it around,
Sees our righteous gain.

She was a seasonal beast who slept through the summer;
I checked pockets and sleeves to flesh out a drama
and discovered that she hadn’t any clothes.

As each winter yawned she stretched and then started
to rewrite A History of The Antarctic
in twenty-seven different types of snows.

On our French rendezvous she performed ingénue
insisting that Seamus can rhyme with Camus
and poetry be chiselled out of prose.

I never sought out drama
or pain
or anxiety
but they came my way.
I never wanted to make a scene
or proclaim
that I was broken,
but eventually I had to.

I was descending,
drowning
in the darkest of my thoughts
and I needed a lifeline.
I sought out that lifeline,
and a type of therapy
that lifted me out of
the hole
I found myself in.

The result-
amazing,
astounding,
uplifting
and it saved me
and gave me hope.

Will I address that dream where you awake
within the veil between this world and sleep
where echoes pass like voices on a lake
familiar as unmemories running deep

From here, concealed in fog, we watched you fawn
Your visit most intriguing; like a child's
Your eyes so ever slightly slit and drawn
in want of rest from perils of the wilds

Your breath is in the breeze where children play
what sweet perfume came drifting in your call
Believe this is a place not far away
and let you gaze in wonder of it all

A heavy blanket of emotion
Smothers me
I'm left in fragments
Of shattered moments
Hanging on, lost in solitary days

I'm free at last, yes, free I am,
Like all free hymns and those that rhyme.
My words take flight—in worlds sublime,
Ahead of time, ahead of time.

I'm free at last, who dares say no?
Who would halt my river's flow?
My dreams come true today to show
Freedom—aglow, freedom—aglow.

"I'm free," written on every line;
Each step taken, a light to shine.
Freedom, pristine, holy, divine.
Free Palestine, free Palestine.

to tickle your fancy dear reader rabbit,
perchance European G-man double agent
regarding the following poem
with kick a$$, je ne sais quois
ingenious, humorous bent
even though reasonable rhyme
mebbe worth no mo' than ten cent
doth quickly make descent
from ridiculous to sublime

and/or visa versa poetic event
trademark courtesy one
sexagenarian formerly fervent
nonestablishmentarian
long haired pencil necked
geeky, dorky, and nerdy
January born quirky,
Yankee doodling gent.

You stumble,grumble,cry,shy,sip,then trip,fall,get back up
Scraped,stained,bruised.
Then you moan,an groan,with some regret,
Only to wine again.

Your breast pierced
By Love’s venomous
Iniquity

Beautiful adept
Of Olympus
Bestower of mysteries

Adonis the maid-faced
Weep at the wealth
Placed upon his eyes

Men were born
To squander
Your gifts

My friend must have had January in his heart.
Yellow sun days something no longer real,
unable to remember how they felt.

If I had known how deep the struggle was
I would have offered untroubled keepsakes
from the capers we shared on warm days

It may not have helped, but now I believe
I would have at least let January know
how I felt about the matter.