Ours is to provoke thought , stir lively conversation , relay life experiences on every occasion , brushed with a tad of fantasy tinted on the mortarboard of creativity and brilliant imagination ...
Quiet walks through country lanes that come to creation before the storytellers keen eye .. Cicada filled trees , blackberry thickets , strawberry dreams and Esquire rabbits ,
June Bugs on shoulders edge telling tall tales , Sir Bullfrog in character at the wishing well !
Relaying truths to conjure hope in the layperson , with austere poetic compilation , guidelines and hardened steel reserve commitment to excellence before my peers !

Delivered to the academy of criminality at thirteen , studied under the masters , received a degree just prior to release , now walking the streets beside his captors ...
Educated by the state , now a wounded animal has been thrown from it's cage , to fend for himself at age fifteen , to make a living in his early teens ..
Fast food won't pay bills , no high school degree and zero skills ..
A life sentence for one mistake , a bright future snuffed at a tender age ..

It is to the East that I lay cognizant , reborn from images developed on magnetic crystal morns , inexplicable rays of Dawns electricity , ancient circuitry recharging a weary soul , a child of light . Azure seeker , blessed is thy nourishment , traversing the edge of time , due safe travels I impart unto my universal sustenance ..

A cloudburst blesses the other side of Panola Mountain at two a.m. .  I caught a glimpse of lighting , the clap of thunder shot straight down Highway 155 ..One farmer awarded with life giving water while another
man's hard work slowly dies ..
Storm cooled air should benefit a body in need of rest , Heats prostration knows no boundaries in 'Dog Days' , thoughts travel wild , supplications that lie unanswered in midnight sweat ..

I long for the smell of fresh turned soil , an experience I've never forgotten ..
The smell of diesel , oil and grease  ..The ringing of harrow and bush hog ...
My Liberty overalls and size ten clod hoppers , suede cowboy hat , pocket watch and Bloodhound tobacco ..
Bob White Quail walking the wood line waiting to
get their fill of turned ground morsels , grains and grasshoppers ..
Curious Whitetailed Deer hiding in the shadows , Redtailed Hawks
with a keen eye for field rats escaping the plow ..
A sixty two Massey Harris that ran like a' Top ' through rain
and heat , never missing a beat !
My mind prays for the simple life of man and machine , the brushfires
of March , the restoration of God's green earth ..

At the old downtown Theater a curious group of performers appear after closing time , a little after sundown !
The pipes of the grand pipe ***** make the stage their own ...Large ones , tiny ones and gadgets the likes you've never ever known !
Instruments of various heights , shapes and sizes ! Teeny weeny flutes and big oboes answer and call ! Vox humanas sing like the choirs above , Rooga horns from old cars sound off , little blue birds twinkle lovely alms ! Wood Flutes tower sixteen feet high ! Brass trumpets heard from miles around , contra bassoons big enough to blow a man down !
The clap of wooden horses crossing covered bridges , antique telephones and drumhead switches !
Lovely diapasons lead the show , big burly Reeds make the stage their own !!
The mops , buckets , brooms and dust pans dance as the entourage bellows , the music grows louder as the pipers come together !
As all the pipes blow a beautiful song , debonair Sir Console graciously invites you all to sing along !

Lonely Falcon at the golden rim of twilight , camouflaged against a Sycamore , looking left then right ..
Are you going home tonight or have you settled for
our backyard old friend ?
In search of a meal at Dusk or seeking solace at days end ?

the full Moon winks , gives the thumbs up ,
the stars cross their fingers and wish good luck ..
the kind Oaks sway , hoping for the best ,
a katydid plays a diddy about the day we met ..
a steady pulse of rhythm courtesy of a musical Bullfrog
a fastidious , tuxedo wearing cricket pulls out his violin ,
plays a beautiful Italian love song ...

Surface street alchemy , ghost line the morning boulevards , effigies that teem with memory fly past .. Some bound for Heaven , some Hell . Some wrapped in the chains of Purgatory's grasp seemingly forever .
My morning dark canopy cries with fluid familiarity ..Tears pool and maneuver ancient lakes of liquid fear , Jesus questions my right , The Fallen Angel seduces my left .
Sharks swim such impoundments forever , such is the game of pity wherein lies the feeding frenzy . The spoil for blood .. The wincing welcome to my dreams horror , a begging son removed from the honor roll of father and mother .. Shoot me freely , shoot me well , remove me from the static island from where I dwell ..

Do you recall rollicking through cultivated country lanes ?
Playfully tromping down our gravel drive in the afternoon heat ?
I held you to prevent a stone bruise on your tiny little feet ..
Can you recall late Summer evenings on the front porch swing ?
I read you nursery rhymes until you fell to sleep ..
Do you remember tents in the living room , Captain Crunch cartoon
mornings dragging a gallon of milk to the TV ?
Playing hide and seek in the house , jigsaw puzzles and parakeets ?
Remember the puppies and kittens , lavender mittens and the Blizzard of '93 ?
What about climbing up Stone Mountain nestled in your papoose , just you and me !!

Alligator Snappers are working the depths of Port Lake
Swimming this pond in the Summer could be a bad mistake ..
Rugged spiny shells and claws like a Florida Panther ...
Determined green eyes at the surface spell nothing but danger !
Never walk the dismal swamps of Georgia alone ,
Snapper's got a jaw that can rip your hide clean to the bone !
Bubbles on the surface are all the warning you'll ever get !
The only thing these monsters understand is a bullet !
If fishing line is snapping and the catfish stop biting , you can rest
assured a Snapper is up to no good lying on the bottom !

Mercurial Robin hold your ground ..
It's only my footsteps throwing sounds
Continue with your resolute aims on this precious day ..  Nurture my regard for the miraculous with your timid , curious ways ..

Country boy you haven't lived till you see the lights on Peachtree Street..
I could say the same thing about the fireflies on a July evening ,
The Buckhead nights on the north side of Atlanta ,
The solitude with your maker on the Chattahoochee River ..
A baseball game at Turner Field on a May afternoon ,
a flock of Wild turkey's against the setting Sun in June ..
Piedmont Park and the Botanical Garden ,
Wood Ducks feeding on a quiet , country pond in late August ..
People watching at a outdoor cafe in Midtown ,
Meditating amongst the Tall Pines with no one around ..
The High Museum and the Downtown nights ,
The morning call of Crows with the first glimmer of sunlight ..

Blackberry wine and pecan biscuits ,
Crackling fires , knee high stockings , electric blankets ..
Communion with my evening star , storybooks luminesce
in a cold black venue , a hickory fire pops , vibrations travel the wood floors ..
Our reflections grace Pine paneling , elder hearts aglow on brisk , frosty , quiet nights .. Together ..

I once was under the care of a would be "physician" whose cure for depression was to beat it into submission ..
Periods of sadness were excuses for laziness which were corrected with a razor strap across my tender back in most cases ..
Rapid mood swings were addressed with soap in my mouth or an empty stomach at bedtime followed by a Bible verse to "get me right !"
Wetting the bed , spoiling my pants at age ten , clawing my legs until they bled , contemplating death on terrible days ..
Mortified at the grocery store , panic stricken days at school , laughed at by fellow classmates that were o ' so very cruel , teachers holding their hands up in disbelief like I was some kind of fool ..
Time heals nothing .. All is forgotten makes no sense at all .. Spare the rod and spoil the child ? Did you ever see the devil in my tearful eyes ?
Did Beelzebub speak to you when I cried ?

Goodbye cold season zephyr ...
Carry your rumors of snow and ice to Carolina ..
Return in the month of May with your Summer bride ..
Signal the release of song filled nights ,
the curious Sun painting the Western sky ,
goldens orbs that compel the boardwalk lights ...
Ambergris filling the air of paradise ..

A tea light for two ..
Cinnamon eyes that occupy my every thought ..
Her melody caresses my curious ear ,
Leaving me breathless ...

Spoilt wind driven veronica , castigated in blistering Summer swelter . Blue lace in harried July repose , a thundershowers grace upon a parched , grateful basin .
Streams collect on the valley floor , seeking their terminus ..
The clap of thunder addresses the meadow , seemingly forever into the darkened landscape ...
Tree frogs proclaim their appreciation , field crickets and cicadas sing familiar ballads ..
A shy Moon reoccupies its rightful purview , wood ducks return to their evening quarters .. Sleep well Mourning Dove , rest in peace Appalachian hillside ..

Afternoon silver songbird fascination , what'll you have , pick your poison !
Scotch and ale , Canadian Mist on the rocks !
***** martinis with a Spanish olive ! Chugging Tequila with a worm on the bottom ! Peppermint Scnapps with a touch of Sprite , ****** Mary's well into night !
Boisterous little fellow singing by my patio , I'm quite convinced your my old buddy Tim donned in a silver gray tuxedo !!

I've worn the bejeweled crown of a string doll prince worked with innumerable ploys and tricks .
Suffered the false admiration of the disingenuous , robbed blind by great thespians ..
Left my heart to fend for itself among insatiable howling packs of wolves ..
Offered my soul as a stepping stone for ungrateful friends with self centered inclinations and selective memories.
Knowingly trained my replacement without thought of vindication , counseled many fair weather associates in their moment of frailty who have long since forgotten my name and disavow any such deliberations.
I've repaired plumbing , installed HVAC systems , troubleshooted DIY malfeasance and performed every kind of home repair one could ever dream for free on behalf of family members that wouldn't **** on my burning corpse without charging me a fee !

Quick , gut wrenching , critical decisions rendered in the heat of battle are job requirements for front line commanders ..
Assessment , review and second guessing are the duties of the commanded , for their abilities center on the mundane , methodical , easily reviewable past ..

My dreamscape bound in hawser ..
Work shirts and trousers  , hemmed from burlap medium and means ..  
Proud sons , stubborn mules , afternoon steam fought its ******* of fresh turned earth and clay , the tedium of harrow and harness ..
Time alone beneath hardwood with Bible , fig , the covenant of God and man. The relaxing sun would mark the close of day ..

The meat of Spring grass lays forever flavorful ! Retracing my footsteps along the terraced fields of my childhood , bucolic recollections that give way to intense memory on country mornings ...
Rural niceties , fervent farm obligations passed from 'Father to Son , Mother to Daughter ..' Laborious in sow and harvest .. Forever thankful ..

Elven pipers gather and play at the foot of Dawn , ice sickle wind chimes begin to sound !
Gray clouds and brown leaves begin to swirl together as Twinkle Sugarbells mirthfully shakes the 'Snow Globe of Winter ..'
Couples bundled up with green coats , red scarves and brown mittens !
Smiling youngsters ride toboggans down snow encrusted hills !
Hot chocolate and warm cinnamon milk dabs a rosy glow on young faces !
Ordinary forest and backyards turn into magical places !
Snowmen pop up in every yard just like magic with sweater button eyes , Oak branch hands and Pine straw mustaches .

Good morning Mary Ellen , you are absolutely right .. Depression shouldn't be the focal point in a beautiful life .. Confusion easily disappears while holding hands with your best friend .. You've returned me to the miracle of creative afternoons with virtually no end ..
When you touch me it makes me want to cry .. As I implore of you to understand my darker side your eyes irradiate my night ..
All the beauty in this world returns my heart to your window ..
I've great comfort as your voice brightens my soul , solace unlike anything I've ever known ..
The joy of Winter constellations that explain the cold sky , the companionship of my dreams purveyor ,
the Muse of a wondrous poetic new life* ..

Shadows would come alive as wind chimes foretold her approach ..The romantic fervor of blustery March nightfall . Eloquent voices echoed at the altar with the collision of 'Natures Titans' in twilight vernal foray ! Western skies aglow in ferocity , every tree at her command !

Children ..
Why are the great armies of the world not rushing to the children of Syria tonight ?
Why has the world turned their backs on their plight ?
Let's try carpet bombing the cities with loaves of bread and powdered milk with all our might !
Drop canned rations from our bombers !
Feed children regardless of political persuasion !
Take the children under our wing , free their precious minds from this misery !
Lay the ******* rifles down and let the children eat every night !
Why do the armies turn their backs on them tonight ?

Proverbs marked with turkey feather , whiskey induced stillness .. Calloused , arthritic hands locked in the pang of yielder ..I am the chaff carried away in the Fall current .. A field harvested ..

'Twould do any young person well to step into the muddy boots of a farmer for a spell . *** a field the whole day through , milk an ornery goat , pick a row of okra or two ..
Clean a hog pen , run the dogs at the crack of Dawn , build baskets and set tomato plants in the hot Georgia Sun ..
Pick your meal in the morning and eat it at dinner , cut firewood in the dead of Winter . It would most assuredly do a teenager well , yes it would

The insidious wrath of age has pilfered her beauty ..
Rusted chains hang in quietude , wrenched in dubious functionality ....
Superfluous stockyards , fencing long in need of repairs ..
Barns that once bustled with the drudgery of agriculture can only whisper ..
Wind chimes trill in the cold afternoon , the crack of the hammer to the anvil gone ..
Tractor implements lie frozen , a lone Crow stands guard over barren orchards* ..

Snow capped mountain peaks , murmurations in sapphire skies ..Cloud banks seeking the closure of fallen rain , Redwoods at the whim of surging winds , yet we continually seek to disprove the presence of miracles to no end ..

Across the reflective fields of Hill Country grass begins to escape its icy enclosure ..Black Angus leave red clay impressions bound for green pastures ..Mourning doves wail their somber retreat as first light exposes the prequel to Heaven .. Blackbirds and smoke from morning bonfires alight , the promise of daylight is scented with Oak and Hickory as fields of cotton appear to ignite . Tin roofs begin to glow , church bells awake villages on the horizon . Golden waves pan Eastern skies , Sycamores sequester abundant sunshine ..Sparrows , Chickadees and Finches gossip without end , Bluejays and Brown thrashers command the fence line once again .
Barbed wire enclosures divide the landscapes , dancing scrub Pines act as reeds , filtering the breeze with the music of natures continuity ..
Blacktop drives ribbon the lonesome acreage , goat herds graze the property frontage . Quarter , Morgan and Appaloosas quietly graze against the backdrop of nineteenth century farm houses .. White silos and red barns , gourd birdhouses , dug wells and smokehouses ..Bantam roosters and hens sift through acorns beneath two hundred year old Water Oaks ..

Religion is superb mortar for strong block walls that separate good from evil intent ..
Common sense is Maple wood for invaluable , strong doorways that open both ways when inceptive recognition has failed ..

Life , love and friendship are all about timing .

Although my reflection holds me physically accountable , 'tis with graduating , certain unstoppable effect of age that every striation upon this weary face would recall a bittersweet poetic page , life's prose under the tutelage of a senescent , life schooled man at peace with his looking glass ..

Sugar frosted sorghum fields , icing on divinity branch , conjures
a few borrowed phrases scrambled in a Croaker sack . At latitude with
a blue tick coonhound sneaking a peek through the brambles that twist through the hedgerows at a meek , timid mink with a playful eye on morning snow ..
Curious Crow concerned with which way the wind blows , Eastern gray's curious as to why their shadows grow , chasing one another without a care at all , relax outside their sweet gum abode ..
Milkers in the onion field led to proper pasture ..Cowbells break the chilly silence , Red rooster performs *****-nilly atop the pole barn .. Guineas spinning yarns about the other end of the farm , lively geese turning heads for miles around ..
******* jack beagles bray for the edge of the soybean field with no desire for corncake and hot cereal ..

I am a pilgrim of divine , rugged convocations with my maker . Longing to trek the swaying fields of Newfoundland ..
At the rock encrusted deliverance with countenance eastward , overlooking the living waters of Norse legend , with mirrored thoughts of exploration and homeward voyage .

Hid beneath the Weeping Willows on dreadfully slow Summer afternoons  . Mockingbird lays beside a forgotten son , recites a tune of love lost in the midday rush .. Mimicked , took a bow , caught the wind and vanished , the guardian Angel I'd come to know left me unprotected and alone ..
I was a soldier of '69 , running through Vietnam with a stick , Hercules at the bend in the creek , afraid to speak for fear of the strap , praying for invisibility while crying myself to sleep , repressing tears at supper to prevent a beating ..
Precious , selfish mockingbird , we meet again tonight , how could you leave a friend to fend for himself like that ?

My appreciation for morning sunshine is serving me well as of yesterday , all things beautiful have removed a cumbersome shell I've burdened for many decades ..
The sailor without the sea to embrace .. Without a passion to define his legacy , a sad tribute indeed ..
A lover with no mate to share the everyday .. A cold breath of air in hopeless abandon , seeking salvation , longing to mingle with the warm tropical breeze ..
Explain vision to the satisfaction of a blind audience before interpreting my dreams , read my thoughts before explaining my minds disease ...
Wear these boots through the night with sworn enemies to each side , walk naked and ashamed , abandoned without the solace of a friend ..
I have delayed the inevitable last chapter of my being ,  formerly cursing and renouncing the gifts of creation to no end , swallowed as Jonah without hope of ever returning again ..
Return to the trees at the end of the loneliest road , lie beneath the base of a hardwood , close your worried eyes , take in every sound , become one with each living entity throughout ..
Retool your vision from sky to ground , control each thought from this day forward and chart clear paths beside your brothers .. Godspeed ..

We walk the cool January forest floor , every bird shares our happiness , my Dad is a Cardinal following us from tree to tree* ..

A raptor makes a good living in this community ...
Hiding in the Sun's glare , carefree , riding the Spring air ..
Diving into unknown brush and circumstances for their next meal , or laden with one of my chickens flying across the cornfield !
Waiting at the tip of the tallest Pine for a hen with a lot on her mind !
Eyeing my prize gobblers like easy pickins', turkey jerky waiting to be plucked like ducks in a barrel ..
The Red tails die young over my homestead , not from old age or gunfire nor trap or 'guaranteed brew' from a hawkers brown bottle !
The Red'uns on this farm die from obesity wearing out my layers like there's no tomorrow !

Wonders of creation , observable in the brushstrokes of Athena .
Eventide hues embellish the colors of nightfall , a songbirds taciturn refusal within the advent of darkness , land becoming indiscernible from the Heavens when Boreas and Thor collide ..
Northern winds reveal the paradigm call to battle in wintertide , Hill country is no stranger to warring servants ..
I'm coming home tonight forever , removing the thin guise of a confused world to bask in starlight , the language of immortality now perceptible to weary eyes .
Forever is the coupling of past and present , a long journey across the black diamond sea comes to fruition ..

My morning chaw of Levi Garrett was thirty minutes of superb pleasure ..
At peace in God's chosen country of Dove , Killdeer , morning dew and rolling hayfields , the smell of turned earth and afternoon Summer showers , the taste of green grass and blackberry in one precious plug , a working mans companion the whole year through .. A pack on the tractor , one at the barn door and one at the nightstand where my weary bones took ease at sundown ..

Whisper forever your warm , endearing sweet musical question in my longing ear . Sing to me on confused , windswept blue and ivory mornings with improvisational ballads of great candor , disguised in starlights language . Ballads of clarity , brilliance and great emotion ..

I witnessed a previously unknown apostle ministering to the self imposed deaf at Daytona Beach , shouting out the gospel to vacationers that moseyed down Capitalism Avenue , a souvenir committed to memory  just like the pelicans , white sand , salt water taffy , dining at Joe's Crab Shack on fish and chips , the ships returning home far off in the distance , trinket shops lining the streets ..
Two guitar players performed on the pier , hopelessly out of tune and a bit tone deaf in my humble opinion ... Shady characters roamed the shore selling condo's by the score , seagulls knew I had tangerines and wouldn't leave me alone ..
The waves crashing into shore caught us off guard and ruined a two hundred dollar camera , a fifty five mile drive back to Orlando took us two **** hours !
Mickey Land was turning money hand over foot with eighty degree temperatures at the end of December , the boats on her canals were the high point of my vacation , cranberry juice on the veranda overlooking a par three provided a treasure trove of entertainment , men and women penning their frustrations over that little white ball with a mind of it's own , looking right and left before cheating like anyone really cared ..
People watching on Boardwalk , a cup of tea at Old Key West , a riverboat jaunt across Lake Buena Vista , a fried seafood feast at a local restaurant ..Such is the life of the temporary Floridian .. Sun screen , ruffled road maps , cool shades and Palm tree dreams ...

Dry ,  gnarled arms and hands , dandruff in this old mans beard would be akin to wind carved mountain rocks . Our physicality doomed , slowly disappearing one grain at a time , to be wiped off the furniture a hundred years from now by a meticulous housekeeper ..

The asphalt drive has buckled , grass protrudes from its aged surface ..
Bare hardwoods and cold rain take their toll , a glimpse of Spring followed by utter frigidity .. 'Tis Winter without pity ..
What images did garnish the memory of forefathers , days devoid of sunbeam and the unkept promise of rainbows , graves in disrepair , markers decapitated and forgotten .. Barren testaments in quiet , pitiful repose ..Their plight made public against the sun lit gray of cold season ******* , for which I am all to aware on this day of the forlorn , my disease of mind in full aggression , seeking thoughts of childhood , mired in mortal redress ..

O to be young once more , to welcome each day with a smile ..
Drawn to the kitchen by the smell of waffles , a new day awaiting just outside our window .. Sweet , fresh cut summer grass , each yard replicated the next , fastidious and diligently manicured all the way to Main Street where neighbors would meet ..
Root beer floats and fried sweet potato pies , the band performing on the city square ..
Summer calmed by afternoon showers , the scent of southern cuisine on an open grill filled our city .. June was a magic time to be alive ..

Safe passage to the young soldier fighting the war ..
Godspeed to a young romantic thats found his true love ..
All due clarity to the poet on that carrier , penciling his diary for a later time ...
Many blessings to the young runaway , may she come to terms with her quandary in life ..
May the geese high above this coach be Angels in disguise ...
I pray that the destination for these occupants will shine glorious light in an otherwise troubled night ....

Winter fires telegraph days end , fog collects in low country in the absence of light , Hereford cattle call the day to close ..
Mill workers return home , hounds bay as auto taillights streak across the meadows ..
The music of night on cue , jet aircraft seek Atlanta , the orange glow of her city lights appear at the edge of sundown ..
Stars return at twilight to shower their radiance over rural homesteads ..