During the homecoming they were happy to see That the bush and the shrub weren’t hurt by the bee There was no regret since no time went to waste finding the ytterbite was for what they all raced They wasted no time in this journey of life like presented with teeth of a tenacious steak knife For they didn’t know they were next on the list A symptomatic response like a crack in the schist they went rocking along, such an agile climb They picked from a shrub near a dirty clothesline You could read the response on the older one’s face That satire here was the ribbons and lace Tied to the tree to keep all pests away wanting nothing to bother them during their stay
pet eternity box trail flash detective check relish planets embellish moon tip
My mind is flying high as I somersault through space Looking for eternity, I dash then my slow pace The planets soar right past me on my way straight to the moon Knowing of my mission, the end can’t come too soon. I embellish all my plans with a box that I can check To see if I am happy, I feel just like a wreck With my faithful pet beside me, relishing my speed We leave a trail of silver lightening, a flashbulb is my lead I act like a detective with a mission to complete Tips and tricks abound as I rise up to my feet I see the bed before me and know I was asleep But the dreams I had regarded remain there, buried deep.
She shouldered the burden but laughed at the dawn With arms stretched wide as mists rose off the lake She had no fear of what was to come or what would appear again So she awoke with a blur, feeling life from her head to the tips of her toes Knowing she had the strength to conquer even the quiet demons that whirred around her.
When I looked over at her face, she stuck her tongue out at me. She was holding the book I had given her, the one with my inscription telling her all the ways I felt about her. I wanted to climb into a cave, drag myself away from this place, and build a barrier between us because I was so embarrassed. Apparently she didn’t sit vigil waiting for me as I waited for her. The book was only meant to be a small memento but now I regretted telling her how I really felt. Now it just felt like letters thrown into the wind. This was going to be the death of me and any chance I had with the woman of my dreams.
Amidst the rain and fog A turtle spins his shell Hoping for sunny warmth His neck down to his tail Like a vinyl record He spins around and round On the threshold of the mud Fiddling with the ground With no idea what else to do without making too much noise Making his own hidden design He’s proud, happy, and poised.
Temples Scuffling Mouth Stories Step Sky Fluttered Ghost Spring Door Weaving
Test of Faith
In a temple of the Gods Below a sky of stars The stories of the elders Are heard from near and far They’re weaving their tales tightly A step above a lie walking in the door in spring Or scuffling on by Your mouth is hanging open Heart fluttered in your chest Shadow ghosts from dark appear Some sort of worship test.
Books to me are golden like honey from the bees like sap slowly leaking from trunks of maple trees. The words are sweet as sugar satiating my mind’s needs a hunger for the language leaving my head with a seed No broken lines are taken as a sign of things to come for words are always with me silky sounds in my ears hum the black upon the pages wind round and round each line a dust around a knick knack Each speck is solely mine. My family knows I’m feeling that books are here for good a truckload of the bindings I’ve read as many as I could.