alex-gebhartWhisper

American
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A Cunning Puppy?I know this little puppy, / Or maybe he’s a guppy, / As he likes to take to water,
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Winter SolsticeSilvery spectator sheds touch of light / Tranquil forest green, black, white, / Snow settles down, Not a sound,
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The DrawThe merry sounds are all around, / Grab a cup, to the brim if you will, / Cheery greetings of new friends found.
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Skewed ViewIt always seems my darkest dreams are wrought by day sun brought. / Rarely is reality an ample theme of thought. / I tend to lend a hue of humor horror and confusion,
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Grandest DreamsThe dreamers dream of better days, / Of better ways, days spent in daze. / Wacky worlds of perfect pitch,
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Well Then, Don't Hold Your BreathHold your breath until you're blue, / The sun keeps burning, / Towards the night when it's burnt out.
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Weeheehee!Rainy day, I want to play. / What to do with a rusted shovel? / Summer rain won't be a bane,
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Seek SilenceWind on the shore, just a hiss, nothing more. / Often hard to hear, naught but the roar. / Not my thoughts, nor heartbeat,
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Fleeting SanityRandom goes tandem with insane in the brain, / I try for the score that is more then the rest, / Passed test, the best.
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Plague of WorldsTo be sure, / The only thing separating man from beast is the delusion of grandeur. / Mind you,
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