Not knowing
it's a tub they're in
the fish cooling at the gate.

My answers are inadequate
To those demanding day and date
And ever set a tiny shock
Through strangers asking what's o'clock;
Whose days are spent in whittling rhyme--
What's time to her, or she to Time?

The sun dips into the distance
while the sky shows no resistance
to let the black night in once more
as the waves crash into the shore.

I know this is where I belong
as the water creates a song.
It sings me to sleep with its roar
as the waves crash into the shore.

Blankets will become my best friend
since the warm weather is at an end.
Autumn chill burrows in my core
as the waves crash into the shore.

Northern lights shine bright on the lake
and here is where I hope to make
great memories just as before
as the waves crash into the shore.

I attempted to ride my horse. Toned. Fit.
All power.

Didn’t Budge. Didn’t move.
Not even a crack from a crop.

His dark eyes looked into mine, challenging

Looking to the sky,
I called out into the damp crisp air.

Stillness again, this creature was truly defiant
Sweat glistened on my brow
And I felt my chances were better with a cow.

Humidity leaked through my clothes
Sweat soaked the creature’s coat


Kicking, yelling, and screaming nothing seemed to prevail,
At the point of giving up, I had failed.

Sinking deeper into the seat of my saddle
Exhausted and frustrated I slid off.

Looking at my horse, he felt victorious,
He had won this one.

Tugging the reins I looked back at my unmoving horse.
There was a rebellious look in his eye.

He tossed his glorious head, stomped his hoof in protest.
I looked. Within a second he was off done with this test.

To the other side of the ring, he galloped and flew.
He stopped. Put his head down and began to chew.

He looked back feeling victorious.
He had won this one.

All I could do was crack a smile. Suppress a giggle.
For this was my horse, as stubborn as a mule.

Once I read this quote
about how quiet people
have the loudest minds.

Now,
and only now
do I know what was meant by this.

I sit there while you talk.
Just sit and listen.
A little nod, a silent sound
of consent.
That's all you'll see from me.

Because I'm not a talker.
I'm the one who listens.
Attentively. Tireless.
An open ear
for everyone's problems
musings, thoughts.

And I don't complain
or give advice
I don't argue
or deny

I will just sit there
subtly smiling,
gathering my thoughts
inside my mind

And you are grateful
for that someone
who listens and cares
without judging

But ask me once
on my view, my experience
I will start slowly,
trying to hold back
on all the things unsaid.
tiptoeing around
so as not to drown you

And finally it will overthrow
my discipline
and words, letters, stories
start flowing out my mouth
passing the barriers that
have so long retained them.

And I'm afraid it might easily
crush you
because there's so much within me
that wants to be said
and so very few people ever taken the time
to listen.

Trees
Spiney, greed
Photosyntasizing, Oxyginizing, Growing
Growing slowly to become tall
Pine

You  are my breathe of fresh air,
Its as if,
I was drowning.
But you saw me there,
And you saved me,
From tears,
Heartbreak,
And my fears.

As I sit here writing.
I cannot help it--
As my thoughts wander back to you.
Lets just hope,
You aren't too good to be true.