The black of his feathers,
the cawing begins,
as I place food on the deck
and he starts calling his friends.

So many words, lie in slumber,
locked in my head,
like dumb and dumber.

A story from me,
a story to you,
for life's goals
are old; not new.
Take charge
of your life.
Revisit anew,
be there for others,
be there for you.

The strength of your will
is stronger, with life's desire.
Light a flame, in your heart,
set the World on fire.

I fear not the fool,
who says, he is.
I fear for the one
who thinks we're his.

Call it a lasso.
Call it a rope.
Call it a lariat.
Don't be a dope,
for a rope
is a line,
in naval words.
Don't be foolish
or feel absurd.

A ghost,
a wisp of white,
Winter air,
was what I noticed.
It was everywhere,
there was no sound,
a slight odor of decay.
I reached for my phone,
but the cloud vanished,
going quickly away.
Is this a new omen
of a Spirit set free
or just a message
saying the next ghost
will be me?

Will there be laughter
if there is no sound?
Will there be a forest,
if no trees are around?
Ridiculous questions, asked of me
by a lovely young lady,
who is so close to me.

If there were a good way
to capture your morning smile,
I would spend all of my time
and do it all the while,
for the picture of your love
is what I see, coming from within,
as I have always loved you,
no matter the mood you're in.

Of all those I know
in this great land,
there is no one like
my old friend, JoAnne.
She brings cheer to me,
when I am worried,
about my wife , then she
will write, providing me strength
and will go to any length.
Thanks for being a favorite fan.
You are the best, sweet Joanne.
Love to you JoAnne.

Do you ever feel
stuck in the lurch,
even if you wanted,
you can't go to church.

Nights are dark,
empty my brain,
of life's happenings;
I can't explain.