alone at last
a blessing it is
to remove my masks
in solitary bliss
no more acting
and trying to please
just me myself and
my mind at ease

Once Upon a Time,
Where dragons roamed the land
With scales that shined like solid gold
and castles oh so grand

Once Upon a Time,
Where a peasant could be king
Take to the stars, and break his bars
and hear the people sing

Once Upon a Time,
Where magic filled the air
faires danced on feathered wings
and gave children a scare

Once Upon a Time,
Where true love reigned supreme
Where heaps of gold,
Were traded and sold
and woe was just a dream

Once Upon a Time,
Where we made life our friend
Once Upon a time so great
It seemed to never end

Once Upon a Time,
Sadly one that could not last
But what is done is done
and that is in the past

Once upon a Time,
One so very long ago
Where magic filled the air
and angels filled the snow

Plants as tall as castles,
Wizards, warlocks, spells.
Evil and enchanted apples
Talking frogs inside the wells.
There's pumpkin pie that came alive
and flying giant frogs
and giant beans that lived and thrived
and cheerful talking dogs

Oh Once upon a Time,
oh what I would not give
if even for a single moment
that time I could relive

Once Upon a Time,
One so very far away
A time we cant go back to
So let us love today

the american dream (or so it appears lately)
seems to be founded on,
the same untrustworthy premises,
as the oldest confidence schemes,
first recorded in the libraries of history.

on saturday morning we grace around recycled rustic tables, lowering our heads over gluten free brown toast topped with gently scrambled free range eggs, adding soya milk to decaffeinated, ethically sourced coffee, self contained in guilt free reusable cups -

and still we fret.

There is the ancient story of a shepherd boy
whose king outfitted him with armor
to ready him for the challenges of the day
and the boy could not walk
so he threw off the armor
picked up his sling
and tended his father’s flock
with peace and joy freely erupting in song.

My armor is not wealth or wit
I cannot make myself fit
into the current conventions and hype
trying to conform to the normal type
stops up the energies that yearn to flow
freely and gleefully and urge me to go
to the dawn, darkness, clouds and sun
to wrap myself in words that run
like sparkling streams
and windswept dreams.

Poetry is my armor for each day
where worries and problem allay
where I search my feelings and mind
for the word elixir loosening knots that bind.
This armor does not weigh me down
but frees me to my triggering town
where I find and create the poet me
and the landscape of my soul’s poetry.