Nearly all the leaves have fallen
and the trees look lonely and bare
When Winter moves in
they will look so thin
standing in the cold air
I hope that they will be sleeping
as warm as the cat in my lap
and in the Spring
the birds will sing
to wake them
from a long winter’s nap

If there’s too much to do
and you’re too tired to do it
Put up your feet
and tell the world “***** it”

To be so uncomfortable
in the present moment
as to rush to get to the next one
Dancing like feet
touching hot coals
A machine of perpetual  motion

If his emotions rustle
with every wind that kicks up
it’s a sign that a storm is brewing
If he is not mindful
of the temptation of chaos
it could mean his ugly undoing

If a man is not doing
what his deepest self likes
he might want to notice
who is driving
But, to get to that
deepest part of himself
it’s going to take
some deep diving

I’ve noticed that wheat fields
are bare without crows
They seem to be missing
that brush of Van Gogh’s
Another sky bruised
by dreary November
in landscapes I can neither
forget nor remember

Thou shall not ****
until enemies prove worthy
the satisfaction of our revenge
May we be ever watchful
of all who would stain our honor
so as to punish with prejudice
And in the aftermath of such exactment
ignore that tiny place in our hearts
that carries the forgiveness of Jesus
so that we be not ashamed