The buried people

are present in the silence --


rustling in the wind.

Paper and Pen
Has always been
My weapon of choice
Carrier of my voice
My comfort, my escape
Here on the page;
I feel most safe.



Still somedays I wonder
If only my voice could speak
As articulately
Perhaps the world could be
Just as meant for me...



So maybe.
I'll just try, a little
To speak out
With words that are not brittle.

Back in the days
of puppies and kittens
When my pages were full
Of stories unwritten
I’d begin each day
with my very best friend
chasing the sun
until the day’s end
But, as time wears on
and I get older
As I slow down
and the wind grows colder
I always remember
What I had been told
“You’re a short time young
and a long time old”

There was a young girl named Pam,
Who had a liking for ham,
She ate so much,
Was sick as such,
Now she will eat only jam.