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I like to drink whiskey till the burning stops
Jot down a few lines
Hit a little *** , see what I got
Throw it in the burn barrel or
'file it away' , add something to it maybe -
some other day
Strum a few chords
Looking for a melody
Songs about empty ***** bottles -
and full ashtrays
Hardwood rockers and better days
A warm , worn out bag of bones venting -
by the porch light
Drowning his memories on a cold December night* ..
Copyright December 1 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I followed these clarissa ladies -
for awhile , prancing the undergrowth , the tallest greenery ,
leaving new frost indentations in misty bottomland scenery
Displaying tall shadows in ****** sunlight ,
parallel to a fieldroad , gently moving
through conifer saplings , ever so slowly out of
sight* ....
Copyright December 1 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Stand beside the gulf waters facing the west as our daystar -
displays its twilight address
Bear witness to the first glimmer of sunshine as the maelstrom of -
March thunderstorms are fading , as rainbows begin their parade
Walk hill country terraces as the morning fog lifts ,
tis a woman's brushstroke indeed interpreting Heaven itself* ..
Copyright December 1 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Sto juxta linguam nostram in aquis posita solem occidentem Luciferum -
Oetaeos ostendit crepusculum inscriptio
Testimonium redderet aliquando venit lumen separatum a luce prima in maelstrom -
March evacuatur tonitribus sunt, incipiat sicut irides agnitio vultus eorum
Nebula matutina ambulare montana cenacula et allevat,
ipsa est mulier, haud scio brushstroke caelum quidem interpretandi ..


Stand à côté des eaux du Golfe face à l'ouest comme notre daystar -
affiche son adresse crépusculaire
Témoin de la première lueur du soleil comme le maelström de -
Les orages de mars s'évanouissent, alors que les arcs-en-ciel commencent leur défilé
Promenez-vous sur les terrasses des collines pendant que le brouillard du matin se lève,
C'est le coup de pinceau d'une femme qui interprète le paradis lui-même.


Párate junto a las aguas del golfo que miran hacia el oeste como nuestra estrella del día -
muestra su dirección crepuscular
Sea testigo del primer resplandor del sol como el torbellino de ...
Las tormentas de marzo se desvanecen cuando los arco iris comienzan su desfile
Pasee por las terrazas de las colinas mientras se levanta la niebla de la mañana,
Esta es la pincelada de una mujer que interpreta el paraíso en sí.


Stell dich neben den Golf, der nach Westen schaut, als unser Star des Tages -
Zeigt seine Dämmerungsrichtung an
Erleben Sie das erste Leuchten der Sonne als Wirbelsturm ...
Die Märzstürme verblassen, wenn die Regenbogen ihre Parade beginnen
Schlendern Sie durch die Terrassen der Hügel, während der Morgennebel aufsteigt,
Das ist der Pinselstrich einer Frau, die das Paradies selbst interpretiert.
Could someone please reach up an unscrew the moon
Hush the curs and the coyotes , the 'werewolves' and the
loons  ..                                                    ­                                                         Blackout the neighbors , the katydids and wildcats , the rabble and the riffraff
Will you please hide the bulb and let a poor man nap* ...
Copyright November 30 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Time for pecan divinity and sassafras tea , for golden garland decorating mantel-shelves , hand stitched doilies and holiday serviettes , candlesticks , candy canes and peppermints .. German nutcrackers and Christmas tales , warm wine and sleigh bells* ...
Copyright November 30 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
In my thoughts watercolor sphere, raindrops pressure the paint to smear
The cloudburst continues till the globe is clear , the prism in my piece of the world then slowly reappears
This January mindset brushes the morning black and gray
Frozen in herringbone horizons ..
Lifeless grass dappled in shadow
Brown leaf vortices
Aged hardwood and windswept -
duck ponds , killdeer and wild geese quietly call
Perusing the land of the dead from every angle , hilltop to
depression , marble bench to mausoleum
Every date , every unique bronze plate , verse , military branch and
belief , every flowered motif
Memorial gardens teach , I have the sensation of their ghost standing just beyond my reach
Copyright November 30 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I keep a stained glass heart
It's fell to the floor many , many
times , breaking into minuscule fragments -
and shards
I've spent countless days and nights gluing -
the pieces back together
Each little part becoming more and more brittle
Every sliver a lost love , turned into a riddle* ...
Copyright November 30 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
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