The stars were not to blame
Nor the ocean between us
Or even that dreadful place
We used to call home

It was only you and me
Always a little too wrong
And maybe just a little
Too late

seashore and seaweed
flotsam and jetsam

blown onto the road
each strong wind

a hailstorm of seashell
and sand

a drive to the shop
and back again

And I think ‘bout
Everything
More than just
Anything

That the universe could
Give,

Sometimes it means
Everything
Sometimes it means
Nothing

At all.

A man would give all of
Him
Just to lose most of it,
Just to get some of it back,

Or nothing

At all.

Silent tree.
Still life of life
Beautiful you stand, gracefully still,
in cool embrace of soft velvet pillows.
Behind rustic fence you stand.
Wonder if you’ll end that way.
I can hear your song of silence.
Soon the sun will appear and
make you shine and glow.
The wind will come and make you whisper.
Bringing movement all around.
Many sounds to hear of nature
Melody of the white lily in you.
Song of life
Still life coming to life.



Shell ✨🐚

He has no face
or desire
to face
the large grate

And inside
the wicket of the grate
The little door
to the larger gate

One side named narrow

The door ****'s
apprehensions
twist in the fingertips

The other side
slides to the indifference

The 69 peep holes rock in
scandalization

How does one survive ?

The false prophet goes
door to door
selling sheep skin
diplomas
black as raven's hair

His false fruit
lays fermenting adding
pollution to our despair .

The prophet's basic fault is full of self interests
For gain and grain of easy life
For personal prestige
through others pain and strife

His man-centered words
appeal to the ears that want to be tickled with ear candy

And the results are that truth be forgotten , trampled to dust and thrown away

Beware of the smooth tongue Jacob with
the rough hairy hands
of Esau .

. . .
that which has a secret inside itself . . .

which is :
that exhilaration that is serene and untouchable . . .

that self contained God-like feeling
that is completely independent of all of the chances and changes of life

. . . . Joy . . .

what face will wear death
the final mask

-a smile, frown, contentment?
agony, pain, discomfort?

the Raspberries are all gone
some afforded a YUM!
drowned in single cream.