You see the slump in my shoulders
the way I carry myself
the burdens of boulders
that threaten my health.

When you ask what's wrong
I pull up my guard
don't want your pity or sad song
won't tell you why life's hard.

So if you want to know
I'll bottle it inside
wrap up all remains in a black bow
and tell you I'm fine.

I love you
And you love me
but I know
that we will never be

I love her
but she doesn't love me
yet she's so tempting
in my dreams

It's so hard to be faithful to you
when you run off
I want the old you back
I had once come across

Love is a pale man on a horse.
          Ill looking.
               Tired and alone.
Was it ever felt more than in parting?
                'Distance', the horseman's mistress,
                                   is heartache.
The man roams the vast wilderness,
his ghostly glare bright beneath the starry night.
A sensation caught betwixt sleep and wake.

Death is a lady.
                Old.
                  Lost, but in company.
            a kind smile stretched across
          her shrouded face.
               Shadowed with grace.
       Sat by the fireplace
                   with her children she waits.

                                                    Some say for the day
                                                    the rider makes it home.
                                                    When Love will hold Death.
                                                    For the peace they are owed.

The angels' harps play a sacred tune,
while planets dance around the moon;
In subtle strains our spirits rise,
and leave us grateful and starry-eyed.

Recalling life as it once seemed,
this vision floated inside a dream;
In many days of endless chants,
the angels' harps cause us to dance.

When voices touch each other's hearts,
there's always a sign creating sparks;
And with that strong secure emotion,
then lives connect with pure devotion.

No longer chilled in fears of life,
all folks fly far away from strife;
The added wealth of kinship stands,
as children sing while holding hands.

While September heaves its final sigh,
its sweet song of dahlias says goodbye;
The notes that play are fading fast,
as October rises within our grasp.

Awakening to a much different tune,
we hail October's extravagant moon;
Our emotions stir with Autumn's pleasures,
with open hearts to its countless treasures.

It's a time of ending yet starting anew,
when leaves display their russet hues;
The brightening scene caresses the sky,
with a topaz glint which catches our eye.

October's wealth cannot be measured,
unless one includes its golden weather;
The crackling fires lit in crisp clean air,
with tangerine streaks flying everywhere.

One must concede its magical powers,
to convert the summer's blazing hours;
As each day arrives in mystical show,
through jack'o' lanterns' wondrous glow !

The twilight moods devise a scheme,
beyond all sights in glowing scene;
With dusky gray and molten green,
the hazy night appears serene.

A crescent moon hangs lower still,
in wondrous view beyond steep hills;
And shimmering stars put on a show,
while whispering trees moan soft and low.

Each subtle scent of jasmine flies,
throughout the breezes blown on high;
As honeyed teas are served on sight,
in keeping with the delicate night.

And smiling from my window seat,
I reach out to taste the air so sweet;
Soon drowsy from Nature's gift of peace,
I find comfort in twilight's gentle sleep !

Within the curious space of time,
where days overflow in reason and rhyme;
The essence of 'being' seems overcast,
with perilous notions reeling past.

When thoughts appear to ruminate,
in lengthy notions that contemplate;
The mind is often torn and tested,
and hopeful visions can be rejected.

But travelling through are strong ideals,
along life's paths that seem unreal;
And from the heart our spirits soar,
toward thunder's unrelenting roar.

Chances now taken from the soul,
will move us along with principle;
For when the lightning strikes the sun,
clear answers shine for everyone.

At rest, the motions seem sublime,
as we prepare our circular climb;
The winding 'round of colors' whims,
beneath the rock's exotic gems.

As the tale entrusted to our elders,
life's epic journey starts to smolder;
The planet's rage urges from its core,
and soon our days will be no more.

So moving quickly to escape our fate,
from the destiny of trials and hate;
Now gathering missives from the sun,
no longer fooled by anyone.

We face the climb just as we must,
before our hearts turn into dust;
and cheering on are clouds of rain,
Which spill onto our wounds with pain.

But then we see the course return,
exempting souls from hurt and scorn;
While climbing high yet much too far,
we've failed to capture heaven's star.