The road less traveled is sometimes hard,
My wagon throws gravel,
I read the cards,
This life I choose is wild and free,
It’s better when no one is following me,
The currents do change,
The journey does end,
The road does challenge with dips and bends,
But I am a gypsy,
With fortunes to tell,
I KNOW it’s going to turn out well!
©B L Costello 2016

I was blessed with this,
I know what it is,
I know no cross is heavier than his,
Still…..
I suffer……
I am tired and bent,
My sacrifice,
This is my lent,
“Fail to plan,
Plan to fail”,
I expected the rain,
Not the hail,
It hurts,
My life has been cut in half,
“Man makes plans…….
  And God just laughs”
B L Costello 2016

The time that you spent hurting me,
Could have conquered poverty,
Healed a burn of the 3rd degree,
Even composed a symphony,
Still, you chose to take your time,
Practicing to be unkind,
Now……….
You are the perfect *******,
I bow down to the master!
© B L Costello 2016

Her personal effects displayed on a chair,
The jewelry she hid is sitting right there,
Atop of the dresser she hated to dust,
Strangers browsing,
“Ask how much”,
A man in thick glasses watches the box,
Collecting the cash,
He records what we’ve got……
“It almost gone”,
Then….
We’ll call the truck,
Should I save something?
I don’t know what,
It been so long since I felt really sure,
All that remains is **** without her.
© B L Costello 2015

I pray for a change,
I hope it comes soon,
My ukulele is out of tune,
I can’t play,
I am so confused,
He’s suffering,
Where is my muse?
My mind is cluttered,
So is my home,
Without my dog,
I’d be alone,
“I think he is dying”,
Anxiety prods,
My minds begs and questions,
Where is God?

The evening sky hid the darkening clouds.  
The only warning was the rumble of their rolling as they smothered a once moon lite night.
Distracted by the ominous consumption,
Stars that once lit an azure glow disappeared under an indigo blanket.
How disappointing I thought it was…….
No stars,
No moonlight,
How selfish I was,
I did not to realize that she was the conquered
It was her loss,
Her rain soaked me,
Like tears it streamed down my face as I ran laughing
My jacket pulled over my head,
Her thunder like fists ponded in protest,
Perhaps she felt mocked,
Finding safety in my car,
I enjoyed the new light show that only lightening can perform.

She was no victim,
Just not very smart,
Her aim was poor from the start,
All those warnings,
Like ammunition,
They told her “fire”!
But she wouldn’t listen,
A reluctant hunter,
She worried a lot,
Now she is prey,
She lost her shot,
Just to survive,
For her that was good,
Now, she may never get out of the woods
© B L Costello 2016