I don't care for the birds unless they sing
those tunes from back when I held a women
So dear that our hearts were a metronome for the bees.

~~<♢>~~

i wrote a poem
in a book
and left it in the rain
a masterpiece
to say the least
now nothing but a stain

i crossed the
Himalayas
went to the farthest shore
wrote by hand
upon the sand
it's not there anymore

i found a piece of granite
of Mt Rushmore size
broke 2 hammers
and a chisel
carving only lies
o'r the years i prized it
thought it was just grand
but with the wind
erosion
will turn it into sand


but there is a tablet
that's been there from the start
don't find it odd
i write of God

He's written on my

HEART!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 8/15/2016

Oh so dreamy… luring
Thy as a whitethorn, twisted fruit
Thorns slicing the blackened, detouring…