The breezes carried the scent of h… To the nose, to the nostrils, of t… And she bounded for the trees, wit… Right past the cows and the sway-b… She dined with them, daily, near t…
The whirlwind drifts across the snow like a dancer Stirring up confusion as it twirls The children chase along
There is a shadowy figure on the w… On this early Christmas morning And it moves with the stealth of… Darting and dashing, without warni… The mall is closed, it’s too late…
Oh woe is me, I’m a Pine. You se… And Christmas is coming my way. Past years weren’t bad; I was lim… So I was spared, to live another… But last year’s weather was so muc…
Skylight Pink, a Hoot owl’s winks In the mist and the morning shadow… Love and life like a sculptures kn… Has carved a world of sorrows. Grieving Blue, if all you knew
In the morning mist the sky was ki… With tiny sparks from a wooded rod The power was shy, those sparks to… Not like the power from the hand o… Those magic places in those mystic…
I can remember when you danced from side to side, Your seat and panels Tuck-N-Rolled in Naugahyde. One-half ton,
The morning’s Sun peaks From behind black faced skylines That wait to be seen. Then the Rooster crows In hopes of waking others
My friends say that I’m backward. But I question the reasons why? I’m personable and chatty And never, ever, shy! Just because I drive a car
Somewhere deep within the mellow, casted shadows, deep and shallow, swirling round her rose-drop eyes and flying high in fullmoon skies. Too many angles touch the dust
Two Rocking-chairs kicked Now and then By Summer’s pompous wind Two lemonade glasses Half full
There once was a man With a hole in his shoe Who wore flannel and wool And everything new. He had bright red mittens
Oh woe is me, I’m a Pine you see And Christmas has come my way. Past years weren’t bad; I was lim… So I was spared, to live another… But last year’s weather was so muc…
In grade-school, I was told about Two Planets That collided, out in Nothingness. They said, “That is the reason
Across the great expanse With a raging river below, Rope bridges try to fly On the devil-winds that blow. The River’s mist forms a fog
