I weep to wonder why we were chosen
for such a time so near to closing —
a time that's dark and dreary indeed
with valiant heroes whose hearts do bleed
when evil dreads arise again
to do battle 'til the end.

Thunder rumbles with malicious glee
at these people who hope to flee;
ere the tides of good are turned
and those who died are too soon burned
and those who died afore they fought
are torn asunder without thought.

But unto this troublesome time
a little light must surely shine?
Though dark shadows rub their hands with joy
for the machinations they employ
to wring the land of all that's dear
and leave us yet with days unclear?

Thus knights in armor ever-white
shall go forth to fight the fight;
Lo! Our triumph (though for a time)
shall blow the gates and the mind
shall clear the lands for those who bled
and leave us be to bury the dead.

For a time enjoy the peace
and always 'member that darksome beast:
all he wrought upon the land
the very land that we once ******
and do not forget that we did fight
side by side and might by might.

Thus this world would ever quake
should its evils lie awake —
but as prophecies are spake on high
we will sound the Battle's Cry
should evil dreads arise again
Take heart! We will do battle 'til the end.

beguiling winter
clouds waiting idle and calm
moon and sun argue

Friends watch with real wonder
taking the high ground soon
just as sure fingers silence wrongs
seen in the dark.

Differentiate impression
to understand the question
that guarantees concession
of alternate force of will.

I know you don't miss me
but I wish you would kiss me
and hug me and haunt me
and tell me you want me
and make me feel the way you always did.

Your smile my sunshine
your laughter my shoreline
I wish you were here
'cause I miss you my dear
please make me feel the way you always did.

what's this, my good man?
I dare say you are quite wrong:
you are not Grim Death

happy days are here
now go **** the messenger
'cause the beat's too much

in the misty wood
hoping I'll find you
smiling from behind the trees

Caution! She's not for you!
You're supposed to forget, right?
That's how it goes.

But then...

What if she hasn't forgotten?
She probably has.
Or at least she doesn't want to remember.

You'd tell yourself
Everyone has their time.
She definitely had yours.

Oh ah...

Brush your shoulders.
Shrug it off.
You're supposed to forget, right?

It's not that I want to leave,
it's that I have to go.
It's not that I don't love you,
it's because I love you so.
It's not that I can't tell you yes,
it's that I have to tell you no.
It's not your fault, or mine, or his,
but still I have to go.

There's this thing that I think
that I thought I once knew;
but the thing is I think
that I ain't thunk it through.

~

Perhaps this is old,
perhaps this is new,
this odd little thought
I thought I once knew.

~

So I sits and I scritch
and I says to myself,
"Sort your wits slowly,
like plates on a shelf."

~

Maybe it's big,
perhaps it is small,
this odd little thought
that I cannot recall.

It's not the haze of the early morning
taking up your side of the bed
that tells me it's time to pretend
you weren't here again last night.

It's not the gaze of a silent songbird
peering at me through the window
that tells me it's time to act
like I don't know who you were.

It's not anything I can pinpoint
or explain, convey, or describe
that would let you know how much
I wish this wasn't so.

a man all a-rush...
he's not a man who can wait;
perhaps he should try

snow on the leaves
and
leaves on the snow
frost on the moon
o'er
a red and green glow
the evening is silent
whilst
I trim up the tree
a warm fuzzy fire
and
Vince Guaraldi
hot cocoa in hand
I
look out through the glass
and softly reflect
on
Christmastimes past

this is my happiness tonight

hold on, it's coming
be ready, it's almost here
too late, now it's gone

quiet dawn's dim light
serenity at its best
sneaking up on you