As I stroll along the wayward path,
soured with wicked energy;
Which pours its fateful music,
allowing no road to symmetry.

The scene so dreadfully pale and white,
now wet with the drooping elm leaves;
My kerchief tied around my neck,
in the umbrella of quiet reprieve.

The planet grew surviving blasts,
its voices calling out to me;
I never knew the honor bound,
remained alone yet breathing free.

Looking back to pain and hurt,
feeling cleansed among the shadows;
In tumultuous gusts of eerie winds,
the precursors which deny tomorrows.

It only happens in such dreams,
the fiery depths of many hearths;
Complete the cataclysmic drought,
in ruination of senseless farce.

I only have myself to blame,
for a past that's ravaged and torn;
And here I sit and feel the rain,
in drops of silk from unicorns.

Behold, the resurgence of brilliant stars uniting,
as the Almighty relays His will unto the earth;
The faithful gather 'round in prayerful singing,
rejoicing freely from their spirits' holy berth.

Reaching out to share the massive glory,
of Heaven's spark released upon the ground;
Our minds are touched by saintly prophets' words,
when inspired by soulful melodies profound.

While our Savior is still walking with the angels,
and telling the tale familiar to them all;
His Father sends Him down to help the people,
to spread messages of love and heed His call.

And now we look to honor His Son's sacrifice,
as the world still spins yet suffers from delusions;
Which easily tempt our daily thoughts and visions,
until we find a sacred way through life's confusion.

Where did all the time go ?
with my life in such a whirl;
The daylight mists have worn away,
the moon is red and curled.

Blinking my eyes continually,
in outrageous rhythm to the sounds;
Which perpetuate my lasting frenzy,
and lift my soulless being from the ground.

In twirling amazement the moon changes,
from red, to yellow, then to whitest white;
Inside my heart those colors spark dread,
and fearfully I hide myself from sight.

In blazing fireworks depicting notions,
that came to me inside my mind;
I look out and see a massive darkness,
a blackness seared through humankind.

Then peace becomes a fleeting ideal,
corrupted by the woes and sorrows;
Of everyone who seeks to covet the stars,
stacked against the canvas of bleak tomorrows.

Despite the lingering days of Spring,
perceptions are fleeting and rise within;
And with those regrets we take to heart,
the ancient rules of living soon depart.

Caught between past and present times,
our future visions form and fall in line;
Before moving ahead a backward drift,
conspires to halt our souls' heavy lift.

A blueprint of moments lay at our feet,
but the clock keeps ticking toward defeat;
Yet hopeful signs for conquering ills,
assuage our guilt with their careful skills.

If death then befalls us from wasted years,
and sins cascade down into bitter tears;
Our souls awaken through anguished hours,
and bring purpose like rain refreshing flowers.

So break down the walls of mistrust and dismay,
seeking love while sharing this glorious day;
And though we'll remain prisoners of time,
fears fade in the repentance of our crimes.

The wind blows freely in the air,
as I sit and relax without a care--
Underneath a huge canopy of silk,
while munching on treats as I drink milk.

It floats and captures the breezy day,
this backyard canopy of yesterday--
Mother left it to me when she passed,
and now the memories always last.

A rainbow streaks across the sky,
catching moments coming from on high--
While I recall my days as a child,
when this canopy flowed, free and wild.

The summer sun is rising above,
as I'm cooled under the canopy of love--
A childlike vision comes into sight,
with mother holding my hand so tight.

When visions play upon our lives,
in varied images that survive;
Perceptive signals from a space,
will crowd emotions into place.

The stalwart stance of mindful thought,
seems stuck in future's promised vault;
But viewing every present notion,
it follows trails without commotion.

Reflections from the past apply,
appearing lost in timeless cry;
As treachery ends its battered ways,
revelations cure the wanton craze.

When integrity captivates with style,
inspiring reality along the miles;
Each mortal being plays a role,
in merging halves becoming whole.

The running river of life reflects,
the clarity of heaven's mood;
And with angelic flowers' shine,
bonds holy faith's eternal tune.

In satin ribbons each river flows,
from the planet's ageless corners;
Their icy sheen of steely blue,
flare up toward earthly borders.

The waters cast a melting mold,
of fairy tales and ghosts that live;
Among the silky evergreens,
which sit along the graceful ridge.

While discovering each watchful eye,
probe fully into shallow waters;
We rely on nature's saving grace,
to lift our souls in saintly comfort.

For all the crazy mixed-up days,
that sowed the seeds of future ways;
Gratefully we've said our last goodbyes,
to worn out notions before our eyes.

From those we've learned our very best,
and conquered fears put to the test;
Discovering paths that we should follow,
while reaching out for better tomorrows.

Lying in bed with rambling thoughts,
of ideals that bless our hopeful hearts;
Within our souls we sought to be,
as strong and solid as a maple tree.

And all the stars aligned in style,
urging us through the holy aisle;
Our spirits soared beyond the hills,
as tranquility settled within our wills.

For those who never felt the power,
of encouragement from hour to hour;
Regret is sadly among your fate,
for not trusting the outcome of life's debate.

Courageous battles lost and won,
soldiers marching toward the sun;
Jagged rocks lay in their wake,
sandcastles blown beyond the gate.

Tears of joy and tears of pain,
warlike monsters come to reign;
****** trails from naked skin,
campfires burning away the sin.

Crushed by fools who didn't think,
the warriors' place was on the brink;
Of sheer disaster growing wild,
for every woman, man and child.

And now it's just a wayward cause,
too many lives destroyed and lost;
Please let the children's safety gain,
a place amidst the cleansing rain.

When problems surface with complexity,
we often question our humanity;
As challenges to right the wrongs,
can sweep us into angry throngs.

While silence speaks in many words,
in ownership of thoughts unheard;
These fleeting moments are erased,
'till we can build a proper case.

Imagine an outcome that professes,
to sail beyond tragedy's confessions;
Relating each horror put in place,
then judging what we can't embrace.

Yet while the road is ending here,
our hearts decry the wasted fears;
And in the darkness of the night,
true justice follows with its might.

There's a small child walking down the street,
while holding his mother's hand;
He looks so peaceful, safe, and content,
with the life that God has planned.

Mom assures him that school will be fun,
and he runs off to meet his friends;
His smile is glowing, kind and sweet,
he may never want the day to end.

And while he sits at his tiny desk,
a gentle spirit arises before him;
It speaks of kings and far-off lands,
and miracles in a world unknown.

His eager mind absorbs it all,
and color fills his freckled cheeks;
The lovely spirit moves about,
she knows of what she speaks.

The day has passed and mother waits,
as the children rush to the yard;
And memories shared from this magical day,
will come forth from this little boy's heart.

In hallowed echoes of mortal sounds,
the days rush by like the wind;
Our fervent search for valued worth,
dismisses each careless whim.

As crucial as the day is long,
our thoughts become encircled;
By vacant images that realign,
reaping fortunes of a miracle.

We never lose our solemn vow,
to take the journey to its end;
But often stirred emotions break,
when we hoped they'd simply bend.

So if today appears to float on by,
with nothing more left to gain;
Tomorrow's tale will soon arise,
relieving our suffering and pain.

Once upon a Springtime's glowing rays,
of sunlight far beyond our happy gaze;
The seeds of flowers sown into earth,
with pretty petals shown upon their birth.

We laughed the shining afternoons away,
while sipping sweet and frosty lemonade;
Beneath a vast umbrella of turquoise skies,
I felt that love was surely beautiful and wise.

A poem from your heart was gently spoken,
this aching heart of mine no longer broken;
Your tenderness joined with a hand in mine,
while showers of daffodils appeared sublime.

Once upon a Spring I felt your touch,
the breezes in the air were soft and lush;
That season stays forever in my mind,
as memories ring out from church bells' chimes.

When society spills its ugliness,
we're somehow all diminished;
It's like a theme that's gone astray,
with its purpose never finished.

Lately words have hurt us all,
from a man in political realm;
We have to listen closely now,
for someone true to take the helm.

No one in this world is perfect,
but deepest crimes of trust relate;
A sullied soul who cannot lead,
so to him we'll close the gate.

While under duress we'll finally know,
the strength our votes can harness;
This election is the chance to seal,
future hopes with heartfelt promise.

The wind calls out to the snowbirds,
who are searching to settle in;
And leaves of burnt umber flirting,
along with autumn's whims.

Crimson skies above us now,
swirling with velvet clouds;
Cardinals fly to nest in the trees,
chirping songs of love out loud.

Fiery and warm in the woodlands,
sitting upon an orange pumpkin;
Toasting marshmallows with my friends,
and scary Halloween sights will begin !  

This must be a sign of October,
the most glorious month of all;
Though mellow moods may soon set in,
its beauty reigns throughout the Fall.

He stood outside my window wanting attention,
I couldn't believe he'd be so bold;
I looked across the quad with hesitance,
as he shook and shivered from the cold.

It was evening now and snow had fallen,
in curious shapes of winter's delight;
I watched him as he let them gather,
his eyes were dark yet shining like the night.

Oh, truly--how much I wanted to let him,
come into my world for just an hour;
But we had grown apart in many ways,
and our emotions became raw and sour.

It's gratifying to have a college memory,
even though the aching still applies;
I backed away from my dorm window,
and silently spoke the words of our goodbyes.

Bringing me back, those memories of old,
to a place of wonder and beauty;
Calling me, as if in a dream, of mythical qualities.

Yet it was indeed real, life at its fullest;
the pear tree in the side yard glistening
with yellow blooms of autumn;
And the sun's glowing rays beseeching us
to run outside and play.

Even in the rain, there was no more sacred ground;
nothing more precious than the touches and sounds
of family, friends, and Clancy--
the Irish dog adopted by our loving Italian family.

How I adored the smells of coffee and hot cocoa,
wafting through the air on Saturday;
Peppers and eggs, my father's favorite, and every cereal
one can imagine, filling the bowls with sweet milk
Arriving fresh and cold at our back door.

The clamoring of feet, singing out like heavenly choirs;
the hustle to ready ourselves for the football game,
sporting our colors of black and red,
Heartily singing our school song--

And bringing mom breakfast in bed,
a weekend treat that made her smile;
My brother's apple pancakes (don't ask !)
were carried on a tray with steaming coffee--
(it was the least we could do).

Summer...ah...opening the swimming pool,
our friends crowding 'round as it filled,
listening to the humming of the filter,
Getting ready for the next day's delight.

I could go on and on, the joy was immense,
and the years so treasured, though they moved along swiftly;
But in my mind's eye I can slow it all down,
like the beating of my heart, steady and sure--
Of how it was, and what it was, that came to be,
our family's home.

Walking across the grassy fields,
while smoky skies are thus revealed;
Spirits grow solemn in the dark of night,
as sinking hearts unleash their plight.

Coming together in friendship's goal,
our voices chanting as one true soul;
We rise in prayer with wistful sighs,
to see if angels could hear our cries.

The stars align in mystic trance,
as we lift our eyes in mortal glance;
And soon the moonlit skies appear,
in sparks of love beyond our sphere.

How great the world in misty light !
the haze of evening's soulful sight;
And as we look on heaven above,
we're comforted by its infinite love.

Reflections at the water's edge,
paint pictures which indulge;
Cerebral center's multitudes,
of inspiring phrases that evolve.

In simmering scenes of sunsets,
creating wildly impressive views;
Enlighten mindful sparks that fly,
as cryptic words appear on cue.

Shadowy signs in faded hues,
encircle tales of life's lament;
While circadian rhythms bend along,
in sunshine's fiery lambent.

Courting the developed mind,
each word falls from the sky;
Correcting what had come before,
as pure magic before our eyes.

And miracles are performed again,
in mirrored candlelight of love;
Through poetry's profound desire,
to keep following the stars above.

Where devils dance within the storm,
of caustic rage and sin;
A horror dwells inside each heart,
and soon the sky turns grim.

The trees of knowledge fall to the ground,
in wind-swept whirls of leaves;
And only love can cure the souls,
of the curious and bereaved.

Beware of lasting gusts that fly,
through hollowed arcs defined;
For in the stone-cold solitude,
these images are realigned.

The caution taken then is blessed,
by the calm after the storm;
And by the fire we'll rest our heads,
to keep us safe and warm.

In phantom spheres of shadowed veils,
the quiet comfort's quest assails;
To open all the magic doors,
where truth's perfections thus endure.

Erroneous to assume a path,
from heaven's hopes to devil's wrath;
When gifted with a starlit space,
which guides the way in mystic grace.

In massive flight the souls regain,
their magic powers' glowing reign;
Among the clouds their dazzling light,
embraces saintly doves' delight.

No longer ghostly shadows' game,
that whirl and twirl where time remains;
As rainbow streams of heaven's love,
will shine in miracles from above.

Dear son, I traveled far to meet,
the girl who loved you, soft and sweet;
She spoke of your last days together,
my heart swelled up, we hugged each other.

The sailor you were born to be,
was no surprise, how you loved the sea !
Your fragrant hair with salty spray,
engulfed me in a magical way.

War, so tragic, but you still sailed,
your devotion to country had never failed;
Then the telegram came to me at night,
and sorrowful tears I had to fight.

With renewed strength, your darling girl,
raised me up from a lonesome world;
First father, now you, my joy and pride,
joined together, waiting, on the 'other side'.

But tender and precious as the new fallen snow,
the weeks moved on with a mystical glow;
I now have a daughter to warm my days,
reminding me of your generous ways.

As God took you from the boundaries of earth,
the ocean's waves cast a new-found birth !

The many twisted thoughts that linger,
behind the mask of happiness and joy;
Evolve into an overwhelming burden,
when clarity dissolves in cosmic ploy.

Brittle bones that ache in need of rest,
while empty hearts cry out within the sphere;
Of whirlwind notions still arousing chaos,
and mindful meanings seem to disappear.

This struggle for survival of the soul,
begins with turmoil rising from the core;
And hope falters in a wave of discontent,
until courage grasps the handle of the door.

Enduring faith can hold you in its arms,
and keeps the ghosts of wickedness at bay;
Then peace and comfort form a heavy shield,
which protects our wounded hearts from day to day.

There's only one thing in this world,
that sings of destiny;
The soft and steady beating heart,
brings us home to reality.

As mortals we can live our lives,
and often forget that we;
Have a limited time here on this earth,
to live and breathe like the sea.

Each heartbeat creates a certainty,
of living in the here and now;
And what we do with this blessed time,
assumes an awesome vow.

A baby cries for his mother's touch,
a child reaches for a toy;
While lovers touch the face of God,
expressing endless joy.

Hand in hand and hearts with hearts,
we journey through each day;
Spirits' fire burn with intensity,
finding one another along the way.

We can build our very own destiny,
if we so choose to seek;
The wondrous path to the Lord's embrace,
with adoring angels at His feet.

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.

Blossoming from roots beneath the earth,
plants emerge in a chorus of solemnity;
And trees grow full with emerald leaves,
that blow like waves across the cobalt sea.

Both man and woman touch with sensuality,
their bodies hunger for complete connection;
The rapture of the sounds while love entrances,
brings warmth and passion into hearts' obsessions.

When Nature tugs at each season's sleeve,
it prompts the Will of Time's most valued source;
And then each day which passes by in glory,
declares a new-found power and eternal force.

The Final Days will demonstrate the meaning,
of both Mankind's and Nature's illusive ways;
While angelic hosts from Heaven gently gather,
to bless our souls while on our knees we pray.

An inexplicable journey through the labyrinth of life,
crawling on my stomach to reach the final stop;
While growing a thicker skin to protect my alibis,
the candle's wick dims and flutters like raindrops.

If someone told me I'd be this lost and dejected,
when making a few wrong turns along life's path;
Perhaps I would've listened more intently,
not incurring this indulgent, hateful wrath.

On a large stone slab appears a missive sent,
through the ages of questionable morality;
Each carved out verse reveals a solemn oath,
which quenches an aching thirst for immortality.

Awkward years of stumbling toward the righteous,
always straying when the sound of thunder's heard;
Profoundly aware of solace found in soothing strains,
of songs supplying melodies without the words.

Wayward years of wandering past the holy gate,
which opens for the just and trusting throng;
I may have only scratched the surface of relief,
as I valiantly rise to seek the pure and restful calm.

The lawn is covered in early spring's delight,
by little floral buds of golden hue;
As children we thought they were magical,
not the yellow weeds which can conquer the view.

We'd pick them slowly till our fingers were sore,
and put them together in tiny bunches;
Then bring them to Mom as a heartfelt gift,
and Oh, how she'd fuss while serving us lunch !

They'd sit in the midst of our kitchen table,
as we watched adoringly when eating sweets,
Mother's face would shine like a new penny,
while she doled out our 'after luncheon' treats.

Back into the yard we'd soon run and play,
discovering a small patch of purple violets;
And gathering them gently into our hands,
we'd run to Mom as she came down the steps.

One doesn't need money to please those we love,
a simple gesture of kindness is always the best;
For what is truly beautiful in our short lives,
is what we hold dear in our memory's "treasure chest" !

Out on the sea we've watched clouds gather,
slate-gray and ominous overhead;
The weather report said all would be well,
but we're shivering now with fear and dread.

The sails are whipping in the gusty winds,
tumultuous with rain like a hurricane;
And waves so high above our heads,
we struggle within to keep ourselves sane.

It's truly a nightmare for us 'amateurs',
who eagerly climbed aboard this ship;
With fools' arrogance and ***** pride,
yet now relenting--regretting this trip !

But the storm surrounding us today,
reminds us of Nature's pure audacity;
For in our souls we fervently pray,
that the storm will abate--setting us free.

That's the story of life in our world today,
a raging storm which feels out of control;
But with patience, time, and faithful thought,
perhaps--we won't be left out in the cold.

The lonely tree in the courtyard,
seems doomed to live out its years--
Encircled in dust from the baked-clay earth,
with raindrops covering it like tears.

Washing over its dry old branches,
as its leaves turn from green to brown--
From Summer to Fall and Winter,
this sad old tree has grown.

Does anyone ever take notice,
of the loveliness it brings ?
To each and every season,
especially in the Spring.

And if it is an evergreen,
sparkling emerald all year 'round--
At Christmas, no longer lonely,
as it stands at the center of town.

Crystal lights adorn its branches,
as smiling angels rest on high--
A shining star the centerpiece,
reaching up to touch the sky.

In celebration our tree lingers,
as the holidays come to pass--
With gratitude for the chance to share,
its present and its past !

The window seat provides the best view,
totally open and alive with light;
Each sweeping hand of clocks everywhere,
remotely designs the winged flight.

Crestfallen and alone the light grows dim,
while birds of prey circle overhead;
Every likeness corrupts the willing mind,
as cowardly thoughts run through our heads.

In a rain-soaked dawn the cool air beckons,
to follow images savored with passionate intent;
And promises kept are merely remembrances,
of sullen cries scorned through discontent.

An uneasy peace rises as visions before us,
become missives sent down from shadowy skies;
We savor this reckoning with spirits' confusion,
watching conflicts dissipate before our eyes.

Alone inside this cavernous room,
with torrential rain falling outside;
I watched as seagulls flew away,
racing onward to the raging tides.

Climbing up to reach a poetry book,
in this library that became my home;
My fascination grew stronger still,
as I pulled down a massive tome.

Shakespeare and Tennyson filled my mind,
with words and phrases of delight;
I read aloud till my voice gave out,
and sputtered along into the night.

When a single light glowed from the sky,
I called out to the heavens with tears;
As keen memories of the lessons past,
ignited a yearning from childhood years.

I stood and watched the sullen moon,
then spoke aloud my own soliloquy;
Enlightened once more by literature,
which calms the soul and sets us free.

Rising through the sweat of ancestors' fears,
innate suffering leaves me bound;
Despite the black and white of day,
I wearily search for uncommon sounds.

Resting my head upon wisdom's watch
sensing calamity from hollow chants;
As voices within my heart rage on,
curiously whining in rebellious rants.

No longer expecting insanity's game,
(it had possessed me throughout the years;)
The mere notion of reaching back in time,
seals untold tales still rallying near.

And whether candles mark the night,
my faded hope for resurrection;
Bequeaths whatever sails far away,
to enhance the moment's rejection.

With blind ambition tumbling 'round,
in the stark wilderness of the seas;
I say good-bye with a solemn pledge,
while disappearing from the deep abyss.

When lives converge in common ground,
the spoken words barely make a sound;
While calling souls away from pain,
with soothing musical refrains.

The friendships borne of ravaged days,
succeed to find another way;
To heal the scars from fiery blasts,
while pulses beat toward heaven's path.

No longer wretched and torn apart,
hands reaching out and touching hearts;
Will rise above the raging horror,
touching one another with truth and honor.

These signs of love will soon reveal,
what casts upon the spinning wheel;
Around and around each life proceeds,
to mend in friendship's honored creed.

I can hear it in my heart,
a soulless sound predicting sadness--
Yet with all the worldly treasures,
surrounding me in gladness.

Perhaps the whistling will stop,
my mind and ears beseech thee--
To open up your raging heart,
to a place where I can simply BE.

I never heard this line before,
"forever we will fly away"--
But your voice haunts my spirit,
telling me I shouldn't stay.

The last song, and the best song,
should quench the hunger of goodbyes--
Although we once were intertwined,
the chants are carried on our sighs.

The Christmas holidays are over now,
and the days are getting much colder;
It seems each year the melancholy,
grips us with a hand that's even bolder.

The tree limbs are bare and broken,
the wind whistles around the fence;
Pine cones fly through the frosty air,
we cuddle close to a hearth-fire that's intense.

The warmth is subtle but somewhat soothing,
as we watch snow falling softly to the ground;
The stillness around us is like a misty dream,
that shatters our world without making a sound.

And soon the fire begins to burn away,
as sleepy-eyed we rest in comfortable silence;
It's a picture-perfect scene of winter's repose,
inside a cottage filled with a hopeful presence.

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...

The clouds seem woolly amid the sky,
while curiously floating past our eyes;
The rumbling thunder rolls on by,
which sets the scene for clouds to cry.

In emerald tears the waters gush,
while folks take off among the rush;
Of shaking trees and slippery streets,
with raindrops falling down their cheeks.

And when the lightning dances about,
the children shriek and soon cry out;
For mother to take their tiny hands,
and keep them safe from Nature's demand.

The story always seems the same,
as turbulence settles after the rain;
And sunshine will prevail once more,
from Nature's promise to endure.

Wherever one finds the light of love,
the soaring force which captures;
A certain truth that once revealed,
explodes in glorious rapture.

Inspired by the moonlit skies,
and wonders of natural sounds;
We cling to one another's touch,
which turns our lives around.

The moment when the waves unfurl,
and catch us in their mist;
A golden time of ecstasy,
arrives within each kiss.

And when the sun dries all our tears,
of elation burning bright;
We'll risk another chance at fate,
pressing on from day to night.

I've spent so many hours in this room,
my mother's private place to rest;
She'd read, write, and drink coffee alone,
it gave her time to be at her best.

I know how much she adored her spot,
a cozy chair sitting by the window;
Where she could observe Nature's Glory,
the snow, the rain, the sun's magic glow.

It seemed to inspire her inner self,
the one who was truly literate and wise;
She'd light a cigarette and wistfully recall,
the moments which lingered within her sighs.

Mother's intellect was greatly admired,
as a librarian she was both kind and helpful;
Thank goodness she was always our mentor,
as we struggled with our assignments from school.

This tiny room was her only refuge,
from the noise and chaos of a large clan;
I close my eyes to see her in that chair,
for this is where living and learning began.

Asleep or awake the clock ticks on,
playing its same ridiculous song;
Fast or slow my heart is beating,
in motions that seem lost and fleeting.

A mournful night clouds memories,
of daylight hours in succulent breezes;
The wicked winds of darkness gasp,
while stars grow old in moonlight's grasp.

Frightened now I call out in pain,
but no one answers my plaintive refrain;
Warned by shadows of bleakness deemed,
that sleep won't rescue me from this dream.

A sickening feeling pervades my soul,
as forces beyond this scene unfold;
With nightmares of my past mistakes,
which cause my body to quiver and quake.

Yet once the morning light appears,
the episode dissolves in moments clear;
And with the sweat pouring down my face,
are signs of sorrow the dawn has erased.

Vandals overwhelm with beastly intention,
love is lost now--no more connection;
The world is spinning out of control,
and hearts are broken inside our souls.

Captivated by earth's magnetic power,
the vandals grasping hold devours;
Our reasons for hoping and praying still,
despite the fact we could all be killed.

Close to our living quarters they roam,
like demons haunting, throwing stones;
Nowhere else can innocent folks retreat,
slipping slowly, cautiously down the street.

If humankind can muster its will,
to violate the lurking evil's skill;
Then vandals won't stand a chance today,
(but tomorrow is surely another day).

As gusts of air grow swiftly,
and the rain begins to fall;
There are lessons written on the wind,
to find love's everlasting call.

Heartache flies from wavering trees,
and settles down into the soil;
That builds the love of family,
with years of blood, sweat and toil.

Despite the racing clouds above,
as the lightning strikes our souls;
It's sheer wonder to find solace,
and grace that makes us whole.

And as the words fly desperately,
among this solemn scene;
They find a way to touch our hearts,
with a soft romantic gleam.

So if the storm is at your door,
don't run from its missives' mark;
To clean all the wounds of heartbreak,
and revive love's eternal spark.

Committed to a life of joy and peace,
how disappointed to discover it otherwise;
Sailing about in the azure waves,
where no one could hear my cries.

Then my skiff is caught in a lightning flash,
a course correction needed to sustain;
From the forceful rocking, reeling and shaking,
then tossing over in the blackest rain.

Tears blending with the salty air,
I manage to get control of the tumbling;
Soaked to the skin I arrive at the deck,
and climb up ahead of a fearsome rumbling.

The wind was whipping around the bay,
then tossing me further into an abyss;
Perhaps I've imagined what was happening,
but I was overwhelmed with sheer bliss.

Light beamed ahead and startled my eyes,
and suddenly there was such relief;
I'd crossed over into the promised land,
no words did I dare to speak...

A vision appeared and calmed my soul,
no more anger, frustration and fear;
The tears dissipated and there I stood,
and my purpose was finally clear.

Keep my head up high and don't regret,
the mistakes of the recent past;
Reject the hurt and chaos of today's world,
and help folks conquer their everyday tasks.

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.

The restless waters flow unevenly tonight,
across a path of crowded avenues;
They run in torrents like the stormy seas,
and cover ancient scars of past abuse.

While sleep comes and goes in desperate waves,
disrupting all the massive thoughts and fears;
Yet wanting to behold my mind's illusions,
I toss around and feel the falling tears.

How can you sleep within this quagmire ?
why are you still resisting my touch ?
The sweaty sheets between define a memory,
that years ago we lingered in the field of trust.

But when the soulful ache is finally quenched,
no other thought will dwell inside my heart;
You once held me in the arms of acid rain,
yet sleepless, forever drew our lives apart.

Seeking a space where I can breathe,
I wander through my bedroom;
it seems so dreary and dark within,
With a sense of impending doom.

Why did I stay within these walls,
when there's a lovely world outside ?
I have always been a reclusive girl,
but now I don't want to hide !

I've wept in solitude for weeks,
while my writing has turned sour;
I can't believe how I denied myself,
causing heartbreak from hour to hour.

Fresh air is what I need today,
not just sitting by the window;
No longer does my pen explore,
or create with a magical glow.

I wrapped myself inside my shawl,
and donned a feathered hat;
Opening the door to the autumn air,
I exclaimed, "Well, that was that" !

I'll learn to discover and make a change,
to how I perceive life before me;
Imagination is fine when you're alone,
but now I'll savor my new reality !

Nightly when you lie upon your pillow,
remember there's a different world ahead;
In mystical motions of your weary mind,
and fields of wonder surrounding your bed.

In fantasy you'll find inspired release,
from daily qualms and troubles of the heart;
While sensing vibrant whirls of saintly images,
embrace you while they play their golden harps.

Dizzying sounds provoke and mesmerize,
when easing deepened thoughts of disarray;
The angelic chorus sings its sweet refrain,
and gently soothes all tendencies toward pain.

These visions of a peaceful life will show,
that through the night the shadows disappear;
As the Lord prepares a miracle for us all,
with dreams of hope which vanquish every fear.

With notions purely fixed in time,
the antidote to love's own rhyme;
Fulfills each fear of future loss,
divulging depths from wayward cost.

In languid hours of disarray,
a wounded heart has gone astray;
Pretending life has drawn the cord,
away from meaningful accord.

Eventually the souls resign,
to losing faith in thoughts aligned;
With all the mystery at play,
then seek to find another way.

But in the core of every source,
hope still recalls its mighty force;
And when all hearts meet in one place,
their goal is reached...forever graced.

Come to where heather-strewn meadows lie,
and valleys deep with lake-water sigh--
Villages filled with bonny lads and lasses,
where church bells ring out to soothe the masses.

Climbing over steep hills of mossy green,
watching a rugged horseman gather his team--
Winding down earthen paths of beauty foreseen,
where crisp rains fall softly--swift and clean.

Stone cottages built for the sturdy life,
flower-boxes under windows settling strife--
Of careworn faces in the kitchens and fields,
who bring crops of fruit which generously yield.

It's just a small sample of what I know,
about Scotland, its castles, and legends of old--
One day I'll be sailing across the sea,
where ancestors' spirits run wild and free !