Magazine Posts

Low lay the land,
close to the trees.
Bright is the Sun,
cool is the breeze.
Rich is the scent
of the broad sea.
Long have I wandered
searching for thee.

Early the morning,
hours before dawn,
watching a drama,
trying not to yawn.

I love the way you smile,
when you say hello.
My heart will skip a beat,
for the love you show.

Heavy thine heart,
aching to be
fulfiller of dreams,
while waiting for thee.

Long were the stories,
told from me to you.
Short were the nights
when I had nothing to do.

For naught
the words
in my head,
perhaps I'd be
the Living Dead.

A lingering silence
across our land,
the outcome of
a failed plan.

Seditionist violence,
to ruin Democracy,
by shameless politicians,
wanting an Oligarchy

Pulling word bundles,
some large, some small,
many great words,
some, not at all.

String the words
in sentence form.
Nothing gallant,
just the norm.

Write out clearly,
so, you can see,
the flow of words
which are orderly.

When you've finished
or if it's done,
take some pride,
if it's the one.

It was round and furry,
curled into a soft ball.
It wasn't very short,
and certainly not tall.
A miniature Hedgehog,
very slow, ambling away,
to enjoy its life
for one more day.

Grab word bundles,
completing a task.
Nothing to say,
but since you ask.

I'll tell you a story,
one about self
and the adventures of
The Elf on the Shelf.

Late at night
he went creeping,
when all humans
were fast sleeping.

He scurried about
room to room,
without a worry
of impending doom.

Then in wee morning,
before early light,
set in a different location
then the last night.

Owl not tell you,
this tale of mine,
unless you ply me
with some red wine.

Life's path may be long,
not easy to see,
moving along,
so easily.
Why try so hard,
nothing to do,
but keep on
loving you.