drinky drinky

shakey bum bum

candycorn

holding anticipada 〰️

the moonlit 🪁
drifts over the 🌳 line;

always kind,
gently brushes my mind

inspirays

There is kindling in my soul;
my mind sends sparks to it
and the fire is my poetry.

Autumn plod

I lie near my open window,
the breeze comes flooding in.
I smell the season in the air
And fill with distant longing.

Transported back in time
To relive
whisps of the past
Or sent into a future
That may not come to pass.

Long walks on golden carpets,
Cool silver in the breeze,
Moving forward side by side
With fated company.

The breeze it is a blessing
For he who travels not
Who makes no will
To chase his dreams to those far western parks.

The breeze is also cursed
Speaking possibility,
it shows desire,
burning
in the fire of inactivity.

Those moments of pure magic
I hold so dear to me.
When a simple breeze
does carry,
Such a symphony.

Cousecouse

why are you so despised?

Friday Special

perform a ceremony for an ordinary day

Mother

A dream conceived

midst emerald leaves

made seedling breathe

on eve of spring

.

Scenes of make believe

turned reality;

sensitivity

followed hurriedly

.

Years ran as tears

to disappear,

soaked into the sand,

the boy, a man,

now lends a hand

to help his mother stand.

going out

Saturday and Sunday afternoons

are the new Friday and Saturday night.

Artist and Other

one stops us floating away,

one stops stagnant decay

one structures existence

so creativity forms in a mystic

one wiggles unpredictably

so we can all live differently

one slows a rise with no ceiling,

keeps from only third eye seeing

one speaks weirdly, hatches hair-brained schemes

to inspire what is set each turn of the season

one holds and feeds gently,

one points to the plenty,

harmonious in endless disharmony.

tak

white heart emoji

pure heart is glowing

our heart is growing