Holding hands is not just for crossing the street
But to squeeze each other hands under the sheet
Is the little joy we find these days in contentment:

He that hath no rule over his own
spirit is like a city that is broken
down, and without wall...

In literature I go
Still I search for you
Firm grasp of the pen
Still I search for you
To the canvas & brush
Still I search for you
Until my passion is met
I will always search for you

A world of people who stand aloof
Gesture to dine yet lack the proof.

a green screen,
the imaged voice
in my head.

all is
but
what it is.

and when
spring comes,
wounded trees
bear a blossom
in their own blood.

The death
Of a dream.
Dying quietly.

No one hears.
The passing

When its gone.
It's gone.

Egrets stand proud across blue waterways ..
Floridas natural beatitudes flourish as her occidental sojourner travels home , diurnal fauna softly acquiesce , lullaby .. Lailah delivers grace , harmony and benevolence across Gods opus ..

Grey coyote why do you cry such a sad song , are you blue from being misunderstood for o 'so long ?  Repentant for hard days and unforgiving cold nights , have you surrendered to the Winter Moon , are you cursed to perform the same sad tune ?
Cotton tail bunny what a huckleberry indeed , crouched beneath the tall grass , skipping from tree to tree ..
Playing games with the Red -tail Hawks , toying with your reflection in the blue farm pond ..
Carolina Hen , announcing her morning egg . Peckerwoods effectuate the same familiar rags ..
The same glorious stars light the January sky , the Sun falls asleep in Alabama tonight ..