All cars flow down the same mainstream of the expressway,
And meet for a while, traveling the same road.
They ride side by side touching for a brief span of time, being under one fellowship.
Then the expressway divides and fellow travelers go their own ways, never having met but yet together.
They divide never to see each other again or meet and yet they have touched each others' lives.
And also they were once under one divine hand with the same pre-determined destination.
Now they part and go different ways, yet they are still protected by one hand.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
Ghosts, goblins, skeletons, witches, black cats
A quarter moon, cloudy, rainy, dark night, scurrying rats
Spooky houses, gooey hands, sweet candy, people jumping, lights flashing
Screams of terror, evil laughing, smoky smells, lightening, cars crashing
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
Fall in Miami is nearly here
It's my favorite season of the year
Cooler the weather soon will be
Crisp air, fresh smells, energetic cats we'll see.
Time to plant my seeds to grow
Vegetables, herbs, all organic we sow
Trees still green, light outside after dinner
Walks, badminton, biking all a winner.
Halloween fun coming soon,
The stores with holiday supplies since June
Door bells ring, children call “trick-or-treat”
Scary costumes and mounds of candy to eat.
Buy a pumpkin and carve evil, smile fake
The seeds toasted, fruit in an aromatic cake
Shriveled pumpkin in my compost bin
Organic matter to start all over again.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
The pendulum swings its wide arch, cutting through the air with threatening strokes.
Its sharp blade is ever present and always moving closer in arks of fear.
The pit lies below in dark, endless depths of nothingness.
Its cry is one of forever and silence.
I am in between, and I must choose between the sharp abrasions of the ever threatening pendulum, or the hollow death of the pit.
Each moment the pendulum sweeps closer, and I dodge it, but not before I have felt the hair shaved from my arms or the air stir from its movement.
And I am relieved and safe for a while until another choice must be made, and the pendulum moves another notch closer.
The pit is always waiting. I have poked my head inside, but have never wholly ventured into its permanence. The pit is always the last escape and awaits if the pendulum cuts too deep.
Each time I must decide. “Will it be the pit or will it be the pendulum?”
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
It's summer here in Miami, Florida. The Jacaranda tree has violet flowers that fall and float on the tops of the moist jade grass. The Gardenia bush with bent branches is heavy with fragrant white flowers. Parsley, basil and dill are tall and flowering with bees pollinating them.
Numerous plump cherry tomatoes, with all their tingling flavor, hide among the leggy bushes. Green and scarlet bell peppers, smooth and crisp, hang on neighboring branches.
Several new baby birds are fledgling from nests while their parents protectively hover nearby. Two families of scarlet Cardinal birds greedily eat from our outdoor feeders. A flock of fifty Cherry Head parrots with their crimson shoulders and heads crack open black sunflower seeds.
Toads at night call to prospective mates sounding like broken air conditioners. Black wiggly bodies swim in clusters in the canal feeding on algae waiting to grow their legs and hop through the tall grasses.
Global mangoes growing and ripening on trees are large enough to sweeten the palette .
The sun is smiling warming the earth--the animals, plants and people. Steady rain quenches the thirst of all creatures. Nature is here for us to enjoy.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
How I love the sweet, spherical summer fruit
Orange and oval shaped, dangling from trees to suit
Me too lazy to scout up and down neighborhood streets
To steal orphaned members, take home as a treat
A friend calls offering me bounty galore
Come get them from her house, she lives by the shore
Swerving down one-way streets, trapped by dead ends
I won't give up, she is a generous friend
A half-filled box laden with goodies
Could I have more to share with my hoodies?
Through torrential rain, the aromatic fruit in my car
I must make it home, it isn't that far
Once home the box is cumbersome to bring inside
Though my arms ache, I carry them with pride
Anticipation of smiles from my family for me
This wondrous surprise, I can't wait for them to see
Suddenly a huge brown Palmetto bug nestled in the box
Runs out and scoots under my chair like a fox
I miss smashing it with the nearest towel
Should I tell them of the intruder and make them scowl?
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC