One person’s sadness
Is another person’s happiness

One person’s want
Is another person’s need

One person’s reality
Is another person’s dream

sky bulging heavy with snow bright white
to give up its treasure soon

Some say,
laughter is the
best medicine.
While I have
found that to
be true, it's
become so
cliche.
An axiom I now
live by is that
mushrooms are
the best medicine.
Perception's door opens
wide, and my jaw aches
with laughter.
I can taste blue and
green, and hear
tulips sing lovely
ballads for the
squirrels that have
forgotten where they
buried their nuts.
I train my poems like
circus bears.
They rarely maul me.
And, just between
you and me,
The Birth of
Venus painting that
hangs above my
writing desk vibrates and
pulsates like the
Gulf of Mexico.
That red headed
temptress dances
seductively, long into
the night.
And now,
my kittens think
it's funny to
meow backwards.

Beautiful gold purple sky
Mirroring a Monet painting
Rain clouds dotting the sky
Streaks of lightning highlight the clouds
A storm is fast approaching

Beautiful gold purple sky
Looks like a work of art
Coming to close out the day
Winds pick up causing the wind chimes to play
A familiar melody
Plants sway to the wind
A storm is approaching

Beautiful gold purple sky
No doubt nature is an artist
The sky has a surreal look
It’s  entrancing

decades of seeming slavery
of a kind of half-living state
bowed down with demands
being fully alive out of reach
I carried the secret of myself
my true-self, longing escape
to go commune with nature.

...the meadow and the puddle
you wouldn't come out of

wild and simple joy

invisable to eyes, now...

I wander the meadow grass

the fields where the flowers glow
in early morning
sunlight

the fields you
only dream of
where your soul is always free...

and you come running
spectral through the mist,

I walk lonely fields