The Morning breaks Gray,
Nothing to do, Nothing to say.
As it begins, the Mist seeps in,
Writhing and Twirling
Like Tendrils of wind
Caught in a dust devil,
Made of Mists so thin.
Where does this mist end,
And I begin, feeling it.....
.....seep into my skin.
I walk through a Hall
And with each Foot Fall
The sound smothered by Fog
Echos in Silence, Off of a Bog
Foot Falls go on and on
Searching for a Dawn
A break that would clear
To let the Light Near
But each mist that's light
leads back to the Night
Of Eternal Darkness.....JMF 1/13/15

Eyes cast upon the creation,
Its a stirring Invitation.
Words cooked in a spoon,
Drawn to the Pen soon,
Tied off by punctuation.
When the Ink hits the Blood,
The rush is a total Flood.
And the Poets elation,
Is the rush of creation.
But on days of frustration,
You beg for inspiration,
Just to feel the Poets Fix.

A vast Land, dotted with thoughts and Ideas,
Scripted in Hand, Penned with Altruist Zeal.
Paragraphs Written in Hills, and in Valleys,
Taking a Path through Drama and Passion.
Leading you through Dark City Alleys...
To Scenes of Crime and Dark Actions,
Cowered in Fear, Shadows Causing Reactions.
You feel your Skin Crawl at the Draw of a Knife,
Shocked at the Sight of a Passing Life.
You Cling to the Arms of the One you Love,
The Feelings between You from Heaven above.
The Pleasure you feel at the Touch of your Lips,
As the Wind ***** the Sails of a Yar and sleek Ship.
True love Flares up at the setting sun,
And Finally the Poems End has Come.....JMF 1/12/15

Tired is the soul, weighed down by regrets
Trodden weary legs try to balance the Precepts
Slow the step passes, verdant fields of Grasses
His vision cast aside to the Stone and dirt
Dire is his need to succeed all eyes are kept Avert
No eye has he for to see, his sight to life is Blinded.....JMF 1/9/15