Piece of the Puzzle
Never found where the piece fit in
Every which way it was turned
There was never a way it would
Match up with the others
All the other pieces had a home
And seemed to belong
But one was out of place
There was no room for this
Other pieces rejected
Merging together
Filling in that empty space
The lost puzzle piece couldn’t fill
As it seemed they didn’t
Change shape for the other
To fill in the empty space
Didn’t want to help
The piece to fit in
It is out there all alone
And tossed aside
Because no one wanted
The puzzle piece

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They know the true deep meaning of love, life and happiness
Poets are not shallow they can see both sides of the good and bad
They can stop and smell the roses and really enjoy the scent
Poets don't need to have the best or the most, they can live a basic life.
They know how to be happy with the simple things in life.
Poets understand compassion and how to love others for who
They are not for what they aren't.
Poets are special people

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Snowflakes look like powdered sugar to put on your French toast
Gather to make Snow Cream add milk, vanilla and sugar
Under the scope it looks like shaped etched ice crystals
Put colored flavoring on it and make it a Snow Cone
Lay down and make a Snow Angel, build it up and make a snow fort
Too much makes a blizzard for snow days too little makes a dusting

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The dark clouds are rolling in quickly, wild wind blows fast and fiercely
Many leaves and twigs start twirling around and circling
Feeling like Edgar Allen Poe, In the distance I can hear some echo's
Of many dog's barking in the distance, at this very instance
I hear the blaring whistle of a train and heavy sounds of pouring rain
Sitting on my bed feeling cozy and warm just enjoying the thunderstorm

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not digging this nausea. let’s just get to the high part.
loose my body. it does not even exist.
all in my mind, it’s only a matter of time.
til these moments come to pass.
left my mind drift away, let it float on to space.
continuum into another dimension, another one where i am nothing at all.
voidless disaster, turning light into darkness.
continuing the circle, letting you find your clues.
it all ties together.
i am here and nowhere.
here and nothing.
everything and madness.
*****… pure stench of melted memories that aren’t real anymore.

Severe Siberian shivery stinging
Below freezing, bitter, bleak, brisk
Painful, penetrating piercing
Frigid frosty frore
Icy intense inclement

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Stuck inside for quite a few days
After the sky hurled down the ice, snow and freezing rain
Leaving bitter-cold temperatures that are quite frightening to hear
All the news reports suggest “staying inside and being safe”
I've decided to spend the days reading some on my collection of books
On presidents such as Lincoln, Truman, and Kennedy.
Sifting through information I've received of  family stories and genealogy
Writing letters to an old home-bound friend in another state named Dot
Sipping hot chocolate and Cinnamon toast by the roaring fireplace

Copyright 2014
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Really I’m sitting by a cold sliding glass door wearing two sets of clothes writing this free-verse poem.