she casts her pencil like a wand as magic soaks into the page her flannel cascades around her work, shielding it from curious eyes she tilts her head to listen to the lecture, but her heart is elsewhere running through castles and stumbling through candle lit streets colors tangle to mirror the expanse of her dreams she shares her soul with every meticulous stroke each face blessed by her style but never the same when she designs she never aims for perfection for she knows perfect is just a fancy way of saying flawed she erases and redraws as if her art could never satisfy her desires it can always be better but it is never good enough if only she knew I meant it when I told her I loved her drawing her art speaks to me like Mona Lisa never could

So much wasteful -tedious
Much meaningless busyness
It's taking the peace I seek
Why not let it all go? You
Know you will in the end
Why wait?  It's not so easy
To say Adieu to all, that' is
Getting swamped going on

Slouching towards Bethleham
Or Jerusalem...I forget which
The morning and the evening
Star they are one.  Birth- Death
One.  Time is rhe mother of all
Change.  In time every healing
Comes and it is a wonder that
Cannot be remembered to  know
God's saving grace has blessed
Us again . All His promises:As in
Heaven we see His goodness here

For Time and Love
For my Mother and Father

Is this a game I am playing myself?
A dream?  If so when shall I  wake?
Falling thru space and never landing
Fear becoming boring then it must-It
It will yield.  This too shall pass and I
Am not dead. Another dream perhaps?
Lord hear my prayer for better dreams
To come,,,and the best  lasr: Be Always
:











falli

Dear woods forgive me for hurrying on
I would stay to know your blessed peace
But I must way; I am not ready now to
Stop and gaze and be gratified. be and be
I must away. Why?  Because I am not yet
Ready to accept things as they are  To let
Be what will ne.  I would return if God
Permits.  If I can but cannot linger now
But must find out if there is something
More Imust dp; that must be done to be
Saved.  God give me rest.  Save my soul
From ever hurrying on to an  unquiet end

A pebble in a sea of glass

shattered mind raindrops

fragile as broken cobwebs

sun strong and shadow deep

infinite and fleeting

planet sized in the palm of your hand

belief is everything

and nothing at all

I would like to write a poem
That would make her dance
I would like to kiss her kindly
In the fields of France

I would like to talk for hours
Under a strawberry moon
Still strange but nice
Crazy as a loon

               Flaming June.