Shut the door,
turn out the light,
my power usage
is now out of sight.

To heat the air,
from outside to in,
makes little sense,
so let us begin.

Turn off the lights,
when you exit a room.
Close the door,
avoiding the air leak
and of energy costs,
of which we speak.

Should I write?
Should I bring,
the many words,
we may sing?

Breaking loose from restraints,
in an attempt to find space,
to create a subject line,
for writing, paint and erase.

Why am I burdened so,
when my life's gone astray?
Different worries, come to me.
Is writing work or is it play?

When you are writing,
there are some things,
which cause a big ripple.
It is the elusive use of
the dangling participle.

Acid etched words
remain in my head,
waiting and waiting,
to be shed.
To tell stories
of who we are.
Some very lonely
survivors of an
old ancient star.

This is yours,
it's also mine,
the air we breathe.
A life well lived
is our salvation,
to a better day.

To reach for the stars,
you're best to aim high,
for your goal in life,
is to give it a try.

The first Taco
I ever ate,
was from a street vendor,
in Tiajuana Town.
My Navy friends,
young at 20 years old,
drove to Mexico,
to drink beer
at local cantinas.
We would stop at
the Taco stands
and eat the wonderful
tasting food.
Hard shell tortilla,
filled with some kind
of meat, tomatoes, and cheese
and lettuce. A tasty treat.
So great the joy,
a new food,
for a 20-year-old boy.

My love for another,
is not what you think.
There is no carousing,
or imbibing in drink.
A newfound affection,
the four legged kind,
your newest companion,
a loyal one too.
Here is a, new
puppy for you.
A small Pug,
will have to do.

One step is a journey.
A journey too far,
when you cannot walk
and you don't have a car.

Low grew the plant,
not touching the ground,
providing a shelter from
the rain and the Sun.
A beautiful plant of
red, yellow and greens,
not of this earth
but from your dreams.

Your first christmas,
no mother to be,
gathered with family,
around the tree.
No idle chatter,
voices won't sing,
embraces now gone.
Soft words spoken,
remembrance, now lost,
missing your mother,
not here today.
With your father,
this heavenly day.

Give you thanks,
for what can be,
standing strong
against tyranny,
of those who rail
at our Democracy.
We are one nation,
immigrants, all.
in this great land,
thanks be to God.