along a brown dirt path free of leaves
well worn and travelled
many a vagabond straggler
and homeless waif
or ne'er do well
has walked before
into the valley
of not death but woe be me
I crawled at times
got weary wasted sore kneed
and thirsty
until sick sad and lonely
I bedded underneath
the nearest kind looking tree
for a bit of nap
and upon awakening
found my last ten cents was in
my pocket then
went missing
later I discovered I had fallen
blindly into dreaming
under what I call a money tree
which to my thoughts and reasoning meant
it was bountiful
and reaped great rewards for
the soul
to my surprise it means  it's limbs will reach
down
while you dream
finger your pocket and take
your last cent
then stand  there
bark brown still
and grin green or  russet red orange a grin
as you search for footsteps
and fingerprints

Come on girl
it's time to fly

Don't let this gray sky
hold us down

The water may swirl
but we won't drown

Ain't nothing but the wind
and the rain keeping us in

Let's get on out of here
and get some air

Driving sideways
through this storm

Running its fingers
through our hair

Like a swarm
of honeybees came

Singing Love is like a hurricane
and Here comes those tears again

Writing words
upon my window pane

Come on girl,
it's just the wind and the rain.

Kiddie pool adventures and...

Adults
Adults in red lab coats
They make jokes
Saying they want your eyes cause they look like eggs
Adults like yolks
They talk funny too
They call themselves folks
What I would give to be an adult
I could drive to see some people
Picture day and more
No more boring girl galore
But before I grow up I want kiddie pool adventures and dances in the mirror
Kitchen clean up from pancake disasters 
I want to run faster
You start slow 
Speed up and slow down
I want to fall down 
Get lost on a bus somewhere
Make mistakes
Fall in love 
More than once
Sit in silence
Have my own rock concerts
I want to live and become an adult
Then I'll live some more

Infidel and traitors to Christ!

Dreaming of a utopia with Pope Frank
and the devil.
Mocking individualism,
and parading around with indians
for liberation.

You don’t make sense.

Organized religion now dead;
due to your deeds to now.

Idealists still not satisfied in hell.

New thought, new thought, new thought.
Here is another one, tired of the same ole one.

Divine science.

Look for the self & God
Do you see it?

Hail Nathaniel Hawthorne
And Edgar Allan Poe!

© S. Wesley Mcgranor