Come to me now,
for adventures abound,
with beautiful music,
a glorious sound
of horn and strings,
as our feet move around,
to dance with thee,
is what I have found.

Downward the path
of broken dreams.
All the lost souls,
are over, not gone,
for there is no time
to grieve for another,
no matter what's said,
for we must all grieve,
for those who are dead.

A leather glove,
a velvet sky,
a soft caress,
asking you why,
you left me
with no goodbye?

Years ago,
time gone by,
when a foggy morning
had settled on our street.
I heard the honking
of geese in flight.
Couldn't see them,
not in sight.
When down the street,
15 feet high
the geese were flying
in the foggy sky.
Quite a sight for me
another sighting of
flying geese for thee.

Fly the geese, wild,
high in the sky,
Honking, honking,
as they pass by.
An annual migration,
a passage of time.
Once more the season,
life springs sublime.
Soon there'll be goslings
down, by the pond,
as life in the World
will keep continuing on.

The ancient ground,
was hallowed then.
A sacred place,
with fertile soil.
The richest flowers,
bloomed every year,
in early Spring.
Fronds of Ferns,
will provide shape,
outlining a path,
beneath the trees,
as songbirds
sang a sweet
tune of melodies.

He wrote hard,
he wrote wet.
He wrote so much
he incurred debt.

Early in the morning,
hours before the dawn,
when your sleep filled body,
is in a state of yawn.
To be amongst the living,
for today and well beyond,
will be a life's beginning
as we continue to carry on.

Off we go
on a free
writing spree.
Just write
the words,
so rapidly,
there's no
time to
rationalize or
decide if
acceptable prose,
no matter,
what's said,
this will
still be
a better
day of
joyful time.
Lost my
mind, sprang
out the
door to
nowhere here
and no
way we
can it's
idiocy at
it's finest
hour.

Rain continues falling
on the graying of the day.
Perhaps a glimpse of sunshine
will hold the clouds at bay.

Seek you not,
a journey to heaven.
For you only, a trip
to your Seven-Eleven

Orange, was the color
of the Sun which arose
from the Eastern sky.
Bright the reflection
from lake and pond.
Heaven air masses,
cloudless they were,
clear skies above.
The only thing missing,
was you my love.