Distinct from every other way of thinking,
a memory casts its mystic clouds and visions;
Depending solely on the inner psyche's stance,
which wistfully calls upon each core illusion.

At once a faded thought from years gone by,
can generate and embellish countless scenes;
Which built a secluded world of cryptic moments,
that haunt our days and deepen our twilight dreams.

"Remembering When" can often be quite frightening,
or touch our hearts and souls through spiritual phases;
The sunny days of wonder pass by too quickly,
from vacant eyes which turn away their gaze.

Down the precious path of love's connection,
within swirling thoughts determining our fate;
We seek the clearest answers to lifelong questions,
when 'crossing over' toward heaven's open gate.

Uneven as the limbs of a tree reaching out,
in chaotic patterns, a tormented version of a
scarecrow's domain--
How is it that Autumn presses against my skin
like shimmering opals' serenity diffused by
the mountain rain ?
Only the amber leaves left on the ground,
wet and worn, alone and somber, could tell
the tale of a fractured world...and so it goes...

Flailing, bitter wind passes through its lowering
branches,
keeping shadows at bay, forlorn and captive--
Carefully, each candle-lit carousel of angels dips
deeply into the heart of human existence,
moving relentlessly toward resolve...and so it goes...

Yet, the cold dark winter arrives in a burst of
alabaster snow, an orchard of white light amid the
coal-streaked sky--
Ironically, a peaceful resistance to the haunted echoes
of mindful thought, aroused then placated, determined to
find respite in the glancing waves of light--
Only tomorrow will arrive with its relinquished dreams,
all for nothing, everything subverted--
Then somehow the serenity of closed wounds refreshes
the flourishing gardens with misty roses blooming,
their unleashed and aromatic perfumes permeating the
crisp air--
Such pleasantries still prevail..and so it goes...

Alas, Spring and Summer seem to mesh in twinkling
stars worthy of my gaze--
My voice would whisper gently to the gods
to envelop me in an umbrella of truth, wisdom and
future aspirations--
Enchanted by the dancing diamonds in the sky,
I breathe a sigh of wonder, while the balmy nights
enhance the restless thoughts of  youth...and so it goes...


But October is the best of times, its extravagance wrapped
in cinnamon and cloves, melancholy in its stance,
yet powerful in its essence--
A menagerie of coral, bronze, and burgundy,
with pearly frost laying upon the pumpkins--
Restless souls embark on another seasonal journey,
through this picturesque tranquility and solace--
And so it goes...

But when will the dawn keep its word ?
Why does it shun our desire to walk along the waters
of Divinity ?
The rippled lake seems colored with confusion,
the azure sky mirrored on its face,
Where waterfalls crash into a heap of helpless tears
of humanity...and so it goes...

While mankind's Will senses its destiny ahead,
the finite meets the infinite, the chaos dissipates
in shallow graves,
and the scarecrows rise above the winds of change--
The world, still uneven, yet the universe waits while the growing tension leaves our souls,
flying away toward that starlit sky where life keeps
its eternal secrets...and so it goes...

Caught inside tales of mystery and crises,
borne from the ladders of indifference;
While resting upon laurels that denounce,
the costly notions which defy significance.

In essences of trials stolen and subverted,
the seemingly well-crafted words expressed;
Discovering every nuance in abundance,
protected in a myriad of rhymes obsessed.

Eternally woven through threads of time,
a master class designed for mystic wonders;
Some secrets soon arrive at caution's door,
relentless in the sounds of roaring thunder.

Revealing all the dark and hidden nightmares,
soon forgotten are the wasted hours in silence;
When secrets hushed and empty stirred about,
as countless drops of rain fell down in torrents.

Growing in the side yard of our old house,
were mint leaves basking in the summer sun--
Sitting in the kitchen with windows opened wide,
the ruffled curtains fluttering in the warm breeze--
I could taste the scented air as I drank my lemonade,
from grandma's crystal pitcher with floral etchings.

A porcelain cookie jar shaped like a happy homemaker,
sat quaintly in the corner of our green kitchen counter--
The cotton tablecloth swirled with bright colored birds,
partially shaded by the lowering of the evening sun--
Kneeling at the window I saw a bounty of honeysuckles,
which added to the sweetness of summer's breath.

Mom would dish out bowls of butter almond ice cream,
a delightful gift brought earlier from her close cousin Jean--
And often we'd play Scrabble long into the night,
(she was the brightest of us all, a winner in every way)--
Then we'd go outside by the pool and watch lightning bugs,
as they flitted around the giant maple tree in delight.

From my room I'd hear the humming of the pool's filter,
and Daddy's reassuring voice in rhythm with the sound--
My younger sister and brother would grab hold of me,
as we chased our playful pup down the stairs toward the porch--
And sat in the twilight with love surrounding us,
before bed-time arrived and engulfed us in peaceful sleep.

The evening sky surrounds them with its cape,
of coral hues spreading into claret clouds;
This unforgettable sight lingers for awhile,
till blue-back skies overcome them like a shroud.

A factory whistle blows to show a change,
in toiling guardians of its precious property;
These workers carry lamps to the highest tier,
waiting for the distant dawn when they'll be free.

Night watch life is usually lonely and cold,
while sitting with their lanterns growing weary;
Opening heavy lunch pails packed with care,
always certain of the danger that's lurking near.

The quiet town sleeps below yet not unaware,
that someone is always looking out for them;
In coveralls that reek of oil and dusty brick,
protecting their precious livelihood from harm.

When dawn arises the men carefully climb,
down steel ladders bringing them to the ground;
Despite a small fire built to last a lengthy shift,
chilled and exhausted slipping home without a sound.

History shows our country was built on the backs,
of laborers who struggled intensely through the day;
But a night watch guard was someone special still,
that his steadfast sacrifice stood far above the fray.

Here we are in the NOW of life,
waiting for something to change;
Suffering through channels of hurt,
hoping for days to be rearranged.

Forever bonded our souls together,
despite the many trials we've faced;
Searching for an answer to arrive,
before our fragile lives are erased.

Coveting the silence of our world,
while shadows haunt the sphere;
With sounds of echoes from the past,
we forge ahead despite our fears.

No matter the cost of recovery,
while maintaining a level of sanity;
We sense a heartbeat's message to,
prepare for the soul of humanity.

Summer's breath of fire calls,
appearing now in burning squalls;
Mistaken for the candle's light,
which crosses paths of eerie nights.

A midnight storm then sweeps away,
the golden images of children at play;
In the morning dew our visions lie,
as reflections mirror a turbulent sky.

Resounding through our raging hours,
tormented by our hopes devoured;
The water's edge at nature's stream,
revives the emptiness of dreams.

Let's fly through days which tell the story,
of sweetened honeysuckle's glory;
In green grasses lingers a sound retreat,
our paths have crossed beyond defeat.