Life’s about the adjectives,
it’s how we know the world.
Nouns, you see, are only names,
with adjectives - life is knurled.

Think about the apple,
just fruit upon the tree,
red ripe skin with tasty pulp,
better lets us see.

Providing us the texture,
of color if you will,
ADJ allows us space,
to give our lines the fill.

Life’s about the adjectives,
spice for the written line,
Verbs, you see, are motion,
and index things like time.  

Think about the race car,
going around the lane,
zipping fast with lightning speed,
better feeds the brain.  

Providing us the feeling,
of nature if you will,
ADJ gives the taste,
to writings we distill.  

Verbs contain the action,
and nouns have the heart,
adjectives add the flavor,
for cooks of written art.  

Life’s about the adjectives,
how else could it be,
that words paint the pigments,
in poems for us to see?

You wear around your neckline
a lucid strand of pearls
but to think they hold your beauty -  
an error made by girls

Pearls do complement the woman
everyone knows it's true
but yet something more goes on
beyond what  pearls can do

See, a pearl can only focus
the charms you keep inside
yes, the woman is the secret
the pearls bring out with pride

For a pearl alone is nothing
just some small piece of grit
they only enhance the beauty
that's there before they're fit

So wear your pearls on the evenings
and look your very best
but the beauty lies within you
it matters not to how you're dressed!

Endless sea-foam ribbons twist along the shore left by waves,
waves recalled into the sea.  Many waves, their numbers never to be known.
With a drunkard’s walk I trace their path at the water’s edge.
Though the path I trod leads nowhere, it still gives me direction.
My body follows my eyes, my eyes follow the foam, the endless twisting foam.

Endless sporadic emotions twist within my mind left by pain,
pains long ago endured.  My pains!  Too many to count, these pains that I have known.
With a drunkard’s folly I bring them back from my soul’s darker edge.
Though to do so helps nothing, it still gives me direction.
My mind follows my soul, my soul follows the emotions, my endless twisting emotions.

Sea-foam is the evidence of waves that once washed upon the shore.
The proof they did exist.  What more could you ask of a wave?  Nothing.
Emotions are the evidence that my soul is still there within me.
The proof it does exist.  What more dare I ask of my soul?  Nothing at all.
I do not follow the wave, nor do I the pain, sea-foam and emotions are enough for me.

My eyes see a tarnished world  
A world with stain
Stain my soul  
Soul

My soul feels an angry world
A world with hurt
Hurt my mind
Mind

My mind needs a better world
A world with delight
Delight my heart
Heart

My heart is a willing world
A world with trust
Trust my eyes
Eyes

With the fairest of breezes,
off I go! I take to flight.  
A silken twine holds me fast
looking back, it leads to you.  

You, only you hold the twine,
I rise further to the sky
until no sight of you's left,  
still, the twine holds me to you.  

Drunkenly I ride the breeze
knowing that you set my course.
I reach for the high-up clouds  
and then strain against your grasp.  

Soon whipping winds have me caught,
and they sing upon the twine.  
A song we both hear and know,
a sorrowful, wailing song.  

Damage done - the string does part
and I flail within a cloud,
leaving you there, holding twine.  
Stringy, stretched, useless twine.  

You stand there, left wondering
and I'm lost within the sky.  
The twine floats back, back to you
and I'm numb without it there.  

Away I fall lost to you
as I crash upon some tree,
leaving you with tangled twine -
the folly of flying kites.

The world can be a cruel and hurtful place
We blame fate, or Satan, or even God
All things that amplify
                 our own failings as human beings.

Fate does not deal in good or bad
It can bear no blame at all
All fate can do is point out
                our own failings as human beings

Satan then must be the source of such
But blaming him only furthers his cause
All the dark one does is allow us
               our own failings as human beings

Then God must do these worst of things
But that’s not the God I know
All God does is love and forgive us
                our own failings as human beings

The world can be a cruel and hurtful place
We blame fate, or Satan, or even God
All things but where the problem lies –
                our own failings as human beings

Lazily I slip along the mud bank, gliding with out a sound.
Low tide demands my interest to pass within the marsh.
Snakelike, I travel the path that time has set
I round each bend to wondrous creatures big and small.

Be it heron bird or turtle sunning on a stump, they greet me,
but only to a point – away they go!  I have disturbed their day.
Forgiveness is assumed as they flee to a comfortable distance.
We gain equilibrium of trust, the creatures and me.

Neither wanting nor fearing, we enjoy our moment of faith.
Again, the tide demands my attention as I touch upon the bank.
I bid farewell to my companions and travel down the way.
The next turn is calling, new friendships to be found.

Time grows short, as the day passes and the surge is rushing in.
Freedom from the banks has her price - I see the marsh no more.
Only the Spartina reaches above the waves, bidding me time to go.
I row now, home with a smile, for soon I will see my companions again.

Rising up above foam-crest waves
the Highlands call me home
Yes, call to me in Gaelic tongues
to leave my water’s roam  

Riding across waves of ocean's far
to reach this wondrous shore
I'll soon be there on ancestral land
known by lives before

Then nearer still, the waves reduce
I find a river wide
I sail within its Lowland shores
upon the Firth of Clyde

As stars reduce by the morning's rise
more wonders take their shape
I see cliffs all lined with moss and grass
that form this wondrous scape

This beautiful land with its rugged build
bids to me "come explore
and climb straight up to a Highland lake
then to the Upland moor"

So along the Clyde I sail my craft
and enter Scotland's soul
Like a Tartan's weave this water binds
a nation as a whole

To the North you see the mountains raise
so rugged and wild and free
To the South are hills with moors that roll
calling all "look, come see"

But it was the Clyde than won my heart
as I sailed to this place
For it opened wide, like arms stretched out
granting a sense of grace

Care not my love, of this distance between
'tis like two hands on arms reaching full wide
though no greater space will ever be seen
I still hold you near, as if by my side

For connected we are, as parts to a whole
with emotions of love, a life blood shared
Distance does nothing to weaken the soul
keep that in mind at times you are scared

A touch on the hand is known body wide
though it's only one hand at times involved
We are the same when our love is applied
love is our touch and distance's problem solved

Together in life our hearts beat as one
two souls entwined, our life-course is run

The empty page before me
holds magic within its bounds
I sit and hold its edges
'til my inspiration's found  

Shh... Quiet now and you’ll hear
it so softy speak to me
Guide's my mind to fill its lines
but knows not what it’s to be  

The poet's task is simple -
to repeat the paper's tale
and give its thoughts some action
on this course we dare to sail  

The subject can be the same
of the many poems you'll read
but each one holds some magic
as it plants its thoughtful seed  

For two poets can hear its voice
though miles apart they be
and both will craft a telling
each one grayed by what they see  

For therein lies the magic
which each poet is entwined
new ways to express the thoughts
of blank pages that we find  

The poet is a partner
to the paper, thought and word
A poem is but their melding
giving sight to things once blurred