Tears flow like wild rivers
across a desert mapped with pain
poor old chap drops to his knees
thinking he's going insane

Help me dear Lord
I bow at your feet
forgive all my sins
please make me complete

I searched high and low for you
when I was young
I was blinded by the darkness
of what I had become

so many distractions
so many brick walls
so many weak arms
never catching my falls

yet now it is clear
you have shown me the way
for if I had not fallen
I would not have today

Someone recently, generously, commented on my poetry:

“Your poems swing from playful snapshots of orange lipstick and coffee grounds to deeper, soul-level stuff like angels, dry bones, and widening circles. That mix is what makes your work feel alive.”

Yes, I write about all things living,
All things happening in my life,
All things I am pondering
All things that are rife —

But, there is one thing about which I don't write…

L O V E

I am not a love poet like the sublime @onlylovepoetry

Love is what my heart longs for the most — yet it's the one thing I can't fix.

I cannot write about the thing I know the least about,
But, I will croon out the longing and the fight!

I want to write a love poem, but perhaps I need to know love first to even qualify…