There is peace to be found in the mountains,
Above traveled trails you must go,
Where the tattered cloth swings and the lark rarely sings,
and spring is a blanket of snow.
Oct 7, 2020
Oct 7, 2020 at 12:27 AM UTC
How far the sun would sink,
should it see itself a star,
in a sky full of many
Yet who of us would think,
of another twice as bright,
Gazing up at noon.
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 2:53 AM UTC
The wind sifts weak the dying leaves
As drawn out sunsets douse the eaves
In light so bright the belly heaves
A gentle sigh of fall.
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 5:48 AM UTC
He was a man of simple taste,
Of bread and oats and tea.
He did his work and made no waste,
A simple man was he.
She was the stars, the moon, the sun.
And in the field they'd play.
He wasn't born such a simple man
Time made him that way.
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 6:40 AM UTC
Ever in my mind as I sleep,
Unaware of the bounties you reap,
And for all of the trouble you make,
You're still always gone when I wake.
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 3:41 AM UTC
A mask is an external covering,
that serves the purpose of erasing your identity.
Unless you are hollow; then it is your face.
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 3:46 AM UTC
Be it autumn summer spring,
wind or rain or birds in sing,
there is just one simple thing,
that puts my mind at ease.
When I feel my smile dying,
Before the numb and bouts of crying
I go out with hopes of spying,
Lamplight on the leaves.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 4:19 AM UTC
Her laughter is fire in rain,
Poorly timed and extinguished in vain
and she's always lying
about how how she's dying
A death so absurdly mundane.
So lucky the death of a fool
Rusty wire on a rusted out spool
But I heard the rumor
That god sees the humor,
In watching her struggle through school.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 3:44 AM UTC
The thought of fresh flowers
Brings tears to my eyes,
Because,
Like the hedonistic pleasures of man,
They are both beneath and above you.
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 3:18 AM UTC
Let me touch you,
Said the earth to sky,
And the cloud settled in,
And on the mountain she lie.
They spoke of their lives,
Of lost loves and of fears,
And when the sun called her back,
All that remained were her tears.
Maybe you've seen them,
In the winter or fall,
When the mountain is barren,
And the sky comes to call,
Be it wishful thinking,
Or a trick of the light,
But I swear that I see it,
When the sun hits just right,
A smile of contentment,
On that old mountains face,
As he lays down to slumber,
In his lovers embrace.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 10:59 PM UTC