The fallen leaves
in the graveyard
look very lovely

One thing about snow
Everyone's garden looks
clean and tidy

I'll come with you to the airport
I'll see you to your plane
I'll wave so sadly to you
For I won't see you again
The time we had was beautiful
The time we had was fine
But that seat beside you on the plane
How I wish that that was mine
We had not long together
We had but a few short days
But I'll remember them forever
As your plane flies far away

Keith Wilson

Blueberries on the table stand
waiting for some hungry hands
One by one they disappear
There must be more than this here

Maggie's handing them around
They disappear without a sound
Some eat them one at a time
Others three or four or nine

The plastic bottom is starting to show
as Maggie takes another row
They didn't last all that long
and we'll be sorry when they're gone

As I strolled  down Beaker Street
A neon sign flashed in front of me

That said "Only Serious Poets Need Apply"
(Blink) "Need Apply" (Blink) "Need Apply"

So it was I thought to myself
I can think of nobody else

As serious a poet as I

I looked to the right and the left
Feeling pretty confident about myself

And decided to take a gander inside

The room it was totally dark
In the corner was the tiniest of sparks

I did a stately poetic stroll in that direction

Feeling I might have made a mistake
This thought occurred a little too late

But of course this whole scene might just be window dressing

A voice said we don't need a poet at all
Just someone dumb and gullible

That's the moment in my pants I started messing

Turns out it was a mad scientist
With a masters degree in craziness

What were his dastardly plans I could only be guessing

I was grabbed by a couple of ugly thugs
Who highly dislike deodorant and mouthwash

******* and flown off to the smallest of islands

Where they did unspeakable experiments on me
In the first, second, and third degree

All because to insanity they took a liking

When it was they were finally done
With what those nut jobs consider good fun

Don't know how many walls they had me climbing

Daily now I plan my escape
I only hope that I'm not too late

When the opportunity arrives I hope I don't blow it

I find it so hard to believe
That this all has happened to little ole me

And Why?
Because of me being such a serious poet

When people ask me
Why poetry
Why not pick a paying profession

Take hold this truth
That I'm laying on you
In which there is a valuable lesson

If you do what you like
You're going to find
Life holds treasure in wonder

Instead of the dough
Taking you out in its tow
And then pulling you under

When you're doing things
Think more the gifts they bring
And not money to be made

When people ask me
Why poetry
Do I really need to say

I

always

          Find

Freedom

               In

          Disappointments

                By

                   Changing

               My

             Perspectives

Follow
The
Sounds
Of
Laughter
And
Joy
There
Love
Exist