Tricky Trump
Trying to trump
Other players
In the game

Bright as it is...its light may appease
Days as these, are usually counted in threes....

To others, it's quiet a fortune,
but gathers a quiet misfortune

Long shadows creep from the darkest deserted places
That shallows happiness to a fearsome looking sad faces

Stories of vampires are told...that about horrors the night would unfold
Wolves howling, as the terror would bring the cold

While the human's behavior becomes strange
It is noticeable with a little change
Different headlines on the front page
But prayers made to make all of this fade....

Its when lovers fall in love....all in pairs with a heart of a dove
Staring at the stars above
Counting the traces they have

Calm silent ocean waves, a bright reflection the lake serves
Down as the river falls...slowly its water flows

A clear sky for a shooting star...and a beautiful wish to make heal my scar.

Everywhere I go
Everybody wants to know
"Where's the lady"
They all ask
I answer, hiding behind a mask
Of smiles and laughs,
And say to them:
"She's gone, she won't be back again;
I don't care"
And shrug my shoulders.
But now my life is so much colder
I walk alone, the crowded streets
And tell my tale to friends I meet
Then I turn, walk on with the truth
With tear-filled eyes
I think of you

There,s  a  chill  in  the  air.
I  just  felt  it  out  there.
Autumn  introducing  Itself.
The  sun  came  out
for  a  fleeting  moment.
Then  it  turned
suddenly  chilly  again.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Instead of living to die,
Live to live*.