Distance
13 May 2024

Could one journey be too far,
In a life filled with travel.
One exotic meal too rich,
A road of rock and gravel.

Love held, thru sparse, sacrifice,
Angels loved, all one’s life.
Fortune worn on sweatered vest,
Labor shorn with the best

Leave my shoes on my feet,
Though my day seems complete.
I have lived straight and true,
Paid my debts when they’re due.

Perhaps one day we meet again,
Winter storm or summer rain.
No others share my blame,
Chose to ride the devil’s train.

Empty
26 March 2024

You heard deep travelled dark,
Right whale time of together.
Joy infinite momentary await.

Pleasure strips away truth.
Destiny bare, alone I ‘m empty.

12 February 2024

When you can’t get 1 foot in front of the other,
No one really feels like your brother,
no point hiding under the covers,
Life is never that kind of bother.

Wake up my friend and live it well,
We did all in every spell,
Long way down to the bottom of the wall,
Still time, give it hell.

ONLY ONE.

How many failures does it take  to turn a GOD into a DEVIL ?

ONLY ONE

How many successes to turn a DEVIL into a GOD?

CAN T BE DONE

Awe

15 January 2024

How can I taste the sweetness of life.
I come to you

Snow Plow
7 December 2023

I depend on the December snow plow.
Driveway needs done you know,
I’m too old for all of that chore.
Trouble enough, just the door.

Problem is it’s Christmas season.
Can’t dunp snow load on the road.
Traffic blockage one easy.reason.
Would be neighbor hood treason.

Decorations flashing nightly on our lawn,
Brightly light our celebration want.
Plow, for now, no place to dump.
Would bury all that breaks our slump

Presents could break our budget,  
If we can’t find ways to fudg it.
Santa never would find his way,
Without our amazing digital display.

Taking cover with the snow plow driver.
Waiting for the flakes to melt.
Says he’ll stay for fun and fiver,
Plus a glass of warm winter belt.

The Christmas Tree
25 November 2023

He saw a spark of golden color,
Under the trash of unending war.
Seven years old, he was taller,
Than his coat of cloth and tar.

Cold rain turning to hail and snow,
Clung to a leather hat taken.
Frozen remains in a plane unknown,
Debris of battles poorly lost, forsaken.

He had hidden there from the trucks.
Travelling the rutted mud farm road.
Each wore the scars, bent luck,
Assaults by past rifle fire lode.  

Crawling to the piece of brass strip,
Now loosed from the stony gravel.
A small tag was tied with jagged rip.
Scrawled red and green “Merry ….”