the lover’s rent
is paid in pain;
the memories you’ve made,
are hiding in the dark of mind
waiting for the night.
and when you hit the pillow
with no one lying there,
these visions seep
from misty shadows
to taunt you
as you drift to sleep.
a gasp,
you grab your chest
as if to hold your heart
to rest,
and from this place of madness
find the past is still the best.
the love you lived in
kicked you out;
a homeless, hapless mess
you wander through the visions
from this open wilderness.
it’s cold
it’s isolation
no fire to warm your face
for love has left you out again
you must find new space.
find it deep within.
face the memories
make your peace.
the pain is there to taunt you
until your rent is paid.

The artist’s heart hears music
In the silent things
Like flowers of Spring
And clouded sky
The growth of a tree
As time goes by
They need their muse
Like the artist craves
Their inspiration
A symbiotic relation
Where spirit meets the world
And lovely tender things
Are mystically unfurled
To reason and conscience
Not forgotten
But captured
In a song to sing
A painting to savor
A verse to remember
That make the beauties of the world
Last that much longer