Turn your demons & lifes unrelenting ******-
into Reeses cups & peppermint sticks
Seize the day licking lips & fingers with-
a 'chocolate face' , a lovely horehound day it is ,
Ride the Pepsi river with a Butterfinger paddle
Dabble in culinary witchcraft , cotton candy fields , a sugar cookie-
shield in the Land of Frosted Flakes & Fiddle Faddle ..
All Hail ! The Three Musketeers & the power they wield !

I want to be in a town renowned for its evening-
crickets , front porch laughter & lightning bugs
For fish fries and shade tree mechanics
For kids playing games beneath streetlights
Friendly constables , helpful neighbors & church-
bells , iron kettle flower pots , walking the rails ,
I need to separate the dirt from the chaff ,
to draw the cool aromatic smoke of dried-
tobacco , the kernel from the cob , earth from-
share , cold babbling water from slippery-
rock , soaked shanter from brow , molasses from-
the wheel , wheat from the stone , the honey forfeiting-
the comb , Spring from Winter , crust from lakeside ,
- kudzu from sweetgum , Scripture from torrid-
novel , music from razorback squeal , **** from shovel -
, decay from iron , turpentine from the tall pine ,
cracked leather from calloused feet

My house is beginning to smell like my grandmother's-
old house ...

Give me brown sugar grass
Sunny afternoon dispositions
Soprano bluejays & country byways
Grandkids , daughters & warm inspirations
River-rock chimneys , hot coffee & loving memories ....

An excuse is failure dressed in a tuxedo ...

I defy any musician to write a score more beautiful-
than the laughter of a child ....

When Earth shuts her pretty blue eyes-
When a flock of geese are heard in the twilight sky
Listen for the night owl , the meadowlark & the-
early morning wren ...
The katydid , the fiddling cricket & the mother hen ..
The clang of the cowbell , pirouetting aromatic field smoke
The foggy holler , a ****** in the tall oaks
The song of her residents , hilltops bedecked in shimmering sunny gold ...
Servile beast of burden master the tug of the yoke ..
The February wind , the three tones of a winters dirge howling like -the faithful in a Pentecostal church ..