Incline your ear and press it to the earth dear soul on fire feel the moist wet clod of God's rich dirt and don't speak a word; Listen to the sound of your own hear beat as it thrums through Mother nature's girth move slowly, like the mollusk does across The Sacred Land of its birth Life is a song unsung, if you don't have love so sing a canticle of Glory to the heavens and for goodness sake look up child recall the lullabies your mother sang to you the Heroic Anthems of your Father's story and let your song be heard from the mountains high !
Don't wear life. For it clings to you from birth to death. It's etched with tales of triumphs and woes. When it's on you, it entices you to dance with passion, embrace the strife,until we stumble down, to the silent ground.
The notebooks are at hand The pens are too Inspiration has come from many places and times It is still a great friend and always an adventure It listens and doesn't judge Never interrupts So I have decided to stay though other types of writing have called me Poetry is still with me I am still and always will be a poet Still with me