Magazine Posts

Far below in a canyon of dreams
filled with the shine of wandering streams.
The steeping hills covered with trees
being swept by a steady breeze.
Off in the distance, across the deep aisle
a Crow and Hawk began to beguile.
Soaring up to the heavens above,
the blue of the sky brought us love
and the grandeur of nature's far away
viewing the colors on a beautiful day.

There are times when you cant see,
who in the World, is your enemy.
Don't sit there, so quietly
when all you may know
is your "why?" was a once
and off she would go.
Words that I say,
mean nothing more
for the word "Once"
was most certainly a "We".
This gibberish, I write,
as I have written now,
are words out of order,
something I cannot allow.
My mind is now broken,
my sight is now dim,
for I call to the heavens,
please rid us of him.

I hate not you;
just your wicked ways.
Your selfish behavior
must soon go away.

A Rine, a word,
don't tell me now,
for I wait not
to say, not ever or how.
Why do you bother
with this thing you are?
Don't you know
that a distance so far
will affect thee
no matter what's said
for you will be gone
when this scourge is dead.

A make-ahead Alfredo Sauce! Ready in 10 minutes.  Toss with pasta or serve over vegetables, potatoes, fish, or chicken.Click the image below to read Emma Christensen's recipe at Simply Recipes

Words fly to the page,
written to engage,
the reader. A type
who enjoys this tripe.
Some words are lined through,
that is what I do,
for erasures won't begin
when you write with a pen.

No time to worry.
No time to see.
Our life together,
will no longer be.

Click to read the article about Henry Miller's "On Turning Eighty" on Brain Pickings

The lonely tune of silence is sung
by all the adults who are young.
Please stay with me, don't go away
for I need you more, every day.

Forever the day.
Forever the night.
Life isn't easy
and we must fight.
Fight back our fear
of the great unknown,
after we have found,
the coop has been flown.
Track the culprit,
track him far.
Make sure he knows
just who you are.
Fate will come to he,
ad infinitum it will be.

A wayward soul,
a quick romance,
a lonely person,
a local dance.
A decade of years,
a long, long time,
a question of why
a fond memory of
a time gone by.
A time to cry,
a love of life,
a mournful sigh.

What are these thoughts of mine
on this day so divine,
for I ask, with words entwine,
please be my valentine.