Inspiration is a mystical creature.
Legend says it has the power to intertwine thoughts.
One after the other.
Magic that makes the words turn into choirs of souls with a common song.
As it takes over ones body and controls every feeling.

It comes when it wants and leaves when it must.
Sneaks into your head.
Invades your thoughts.
Arrives when you least expect it.
In the shower.
While washing the dishes.
Right before going to bed.
Yet is found absent when you need it the most.

Uncontrollable being.
Unpredictable at best.
Always leaving things unfinished.
Never giving me a rest.

Inspiration is a mystical creature.
Yet to be captured.
So if it visits you.
Hold it tight.
Make the best of it.
Before its magic starts slipping away.

Bury me with my poppy.
My greatest memory; my simple joy.

Spring time brings brightness--
colors other than white.
A flushed landscape from

stamen performing as paint;
replicating a sleepy orange
yellow, green, red

I contemplate picking the poppy
to keep for myself.

Life feels large
like the sparkling lake--
that cold sunny hour when you sat
by a fire bordered by icy rocks.
The earth sheltered in poppies.

We all expect moments without an end.
Post-bloom petals fall flat before falling away.

Miracles can be a curse or a blessing,
brave or cowardly,
Swallowing up certainty.

Poppy tears
slowly release memories--
a crisp deliberate euphoria.

I leave behind the orange flower.
Appreciation is not lost.

the time we spend in doing things
we think are necessary
with hindsight may appear like idle play
wasting a precious part of the allotment
we have been given on this earth

the problem is we do not know

and so we take the risk and muddle on
trying to do our best
hoping it will not be our worst

There is a world awaiting for eyes to view
Lives awaiting to be changed
There is no slant judgement to do
Because the life given to you,,,comes once
There is no time to fear the unknown
Because time is counting down
No clock awaits your departure for sights sweetly groomed,
There is a world awaiting for eyes to view
There is no need for direction
But keep in mind this world is *******
Kind as well as hatred,
There is a journey filled with adventure
Waiting to traveled
There is no time to fear ***-holes
They form within the gravel,
There is a world awaiting for eyes to view
But dont be a fool
There are days of beauty and also ugly cruel,
There is a world out there waiting
But only for those not imprisoned by fear
There a sweet happy life for us all
For those who dare.

Tell me a story, composer,
One that can't be told with words,
Give me grace and pain and happiness,
Give me joy like I've never heard,
Sing me your soul in the melodies,
In the notes as they pitch and roll,
Flood me in its awesome vastness,
Like the refrain is too much to control,
Wrap me in its beauty, covered without a word,
Set my mind to endless spinning,
Articulate as a song bird,
And though it seems like insight,
Into your heart and soul,
I know, the music is little more than a peephole,
A glimpse into something greater.

Walking on a river’s bank
Looking inward
I pause with fear

Turning over rocks
May not
Soothe my heart

There may be mysteries and
Fears waiting
Amid joyous realizations
Waiting in the warmth
Of the ground

Sensing what is about me
Intaking all that is
Allowed to transform
Like I’m pumping
an accordion’s bellows

Breathing in and out while
Each of my senses
Alerts me to what
Surrounds me

I want to feel those things
That are pieces of me  
But do not define me