Surrounded by natural forces that bring,
the sensitive, lonely stars to sing;
Erasing all the boundaries of shame,
promoting cosmic energy's hefty gain.

In universal power's reeling stance,
the shadows of the moon in vibrant dance;
Permitting the many galaxies to wander,
in ruminating voices' endless wonder.

Beyond the expanse of purple skies,
are mysteries and miracles that gently lie;
Above random dreams of mere desire,
which penetrate clouds in lightning's fire.

A clear cosmic moment can unveil,
a pathway to the skyline we assail;
And arriving at the steps of heaven's grace,
those singing stars will glow in space.

The gallant birds sing such lovely tunes,
while resting under the sky and moon;
On autumn days we see them scour,
for bits of crumbs from hour to hour.

And golden are the days before us,
November brings a thankful chorus;
The harvest reaps its fruitful bounty,
of pears and pumpkins across the county.

Each year we find the gifts of autumn,
the falling of the leaves so solemn;
Brisk is the wind tossing them around,
building colorful bunches on the ground.

And in my mind I can hear the song,
of autumn's breezes all night long;
My heart is filled with love and light,
as the moon shines on to say goodnight.

Pain and hurt beyond the scale,
hearts that linger cold and bare;
Tendencies to grasp the chance,
to seal our fate without a glance.

We can't revive the soul's true will,
by wandering off among the chill;
Which clears emotions from the shelf,
in frozen thoughts of nature's wealth.

When we can't see what lies ahead,
still humbled by our daily bread;
We find a place where fiery stands,
can take the horror from our hands.

God bless the sad and lonely child,
whose face reflects the meek and mild;
When glorious spirits break the ties,
those afflicted fade away and die.

Courageous battles lost and won,
soldiers marching toward the sun;
Jagged rocks lay in their wake,
sandcastles blown beyond the gate.

Tears of joy and tears of pain,
warlike monsters come to reign;
****** trails from naked skin,
campfires burning away the sin.

Crushed by fools who didn't think,
the warriors' place was on the brink;
Of sheer disaster growing wild,
for every woman, man and child.

And now it's just a wayward cause,
too many lives destroyed and lost;
Please let the children's safety gain,
a place amidst the cleansing rain.

The stellar light illuminates the galaxy,
in sparkling flashes of silver and gold;
Like a child's painting awash in splattered hues,
with the angel-moon as guardian bright and bold.

An eclectic design by a superior soul,
inescapably translucent and chaste;
Its composition surpasses all boundaries,
a breathtaking canvas sketched by providence.

While here we view from our temporal plane,
this dance of saints at divine elevation;
Enthralled by the image we're witnessing,
as it defies our worldly imagination.

All around us earthly miracles lie,
within nature's triumphant show;
Yet untouched beauty magnified above,
reaffirms what we already know !

His eyes were moist after many tears,
and his shallow breathing gave me a start;
This lonely sir who had nothing left,
but the dull dreary beat of a broken heart.

Embracing him now I could feel the chill,
his body so lean and limp with despair;
The grief unspoken was worse than his tears,
and the night lingered on forever.

We sat on the bench which he called 'home',
this vulnerable man of little means;
I found him after the storm had passed,
lying alone with his faded dreams.

I took his hand so gently then,
and wiped his face with my scarf;
I knew not his name but still I cared,
and couldn't leave him alone in the dark.

As we walked through the night side by side,
he spoke of his world gone astray;
A sweet lady once loved him with all her soul,
and had promised always to stay.

But when her spirit left this temporal plane,
going back to the Lord who'd created;
Such a beautiful spouse he cherished still,
suddenly his choking sobs abated.

We strolled to the church on the River Road,
to offer heartfelt prayers of peace;
As he paused with grace and gratitude,
an angelic smile crossed his face.

Come to where heather-strewn meadows lie,
and valleys deep with lake-water sigh--
Villages filled with bonny lads and lasses,
where church bells ring out to soothe the masses.

Climbing over steep hills of mossy green,
watching a rugged horseman gather his team--
Winding down earthen paths of beauty foreseen,
where crisp rains fall softly--swift and clean.

Stone cottages built for the sturdy life,
flower-boxes under windows settling strife--
Of careworn faces in the kitchens and fields,
who bring crops of fruit which generously yield.

It's just a small sample of what I know,
about Scotland, its castles, and legends of old--
One day I'll be sailing across the sea,
where ancestors' spirits run wild and free !

The window seat provides the best view,
totally open and alive with light;
Each sweeping hand of clocks everywhere,
remotely designs the winged flight.

Crestfallen and alone the light grows dim,
while birds of prey circle overhead;
Every likeness corrupts the willing mind,
as cowardly thoughts run through our heads.

In a rain-soaked dawn the cool air beckons,
to follow images savored with passionate intent;
And promises kept are merely remembrances,
of sullen cries scorned through discontent.

An uneasy peace rises as visions before us,
become missives sent down from shadowy skies;
We savor this reckoning with spirits' confusion,
watching conflicts dissipate before our eyes.

Left solitary and bereft among the sounds,
of distraught emotions from the grieving;
Sad goodbyes have been properly displayed,
with sullen and surreptitious smiles receding.

I know not where my mind has finally gone,
and if its crafty echoes breed contempt;
From heartless words expressed--so well-defined,
while emanating sympathy in fraudulent attempts.

Believing I could rescue my own thoughts,
from far-off memories that often live alone;
But still I sit and mourn my current loss,
with tears and recriminations clearly shown.

The onslaught of the gods return in haste,
or are they merely phantoms of my sorrow ?
Bequeathed a link to what the future brings,
allows my soul to sink--still waiting for tomorrow.

We beseech the heavens to carry our burdens,
and for God to erase the stain;
Of mistaken words and acts reflected,
in a world that's filled with pain.

Nowadays hope seems lost and floating,
side by side like a puff of smoke;
Rules are defied while people have died,
is running this country simply a joke ?

These four years have seemed like forever,
we cannot go on existing this way;
With heads in the sand we try to survive,
facing the inevitable we kneel and pray.

This all too familiar scene has played out,
on the hallowed grounds of the country we love;
Let's gather 'round and cast our votes,
with the help of the Lord above !

Look to the sky where blue birds fly,
it's such a sight to behold;
On a summer's night they still take flight,
and wander far to lands of old.

The screeching owl sits in his tree,
awaiting his mate for life;
Neither worry about food or famine,
nor do they care for strife.

Each touch of nature holds secrets,
of how they view the world;
And what they say to one another,
about the troubles that unfurl.

We can never know that holy spot,
which reveals the peasant or king;
It's just the way our minds evolve,
from winter to the birth of spring.

Each vision sparks a spirit's tale,
with words that we should know;
And heaven's blessings sending hope,
to every friend and every foe.

Sitting alone in a nearby church,
pondering the life around me;
Wondering why we all seem lost,
in this truly complex society.

Surely I'm not the only one,
who questions the role of man;
Determining how to make amends,
and love one another the best we can.

Lighted candles glow on the altar,
as white roses lay at Mary's feet;
The mother of Christ whose son sacrificed,
His earthly life without defeat.

This lovely place I often visit,
where peace and calm take my hand;
Inspiring visions of a world that's whole,
as we interpret our Lord's own plan.

One moment of grace is all we need,
to give of our hearts each day;
This humble gesture can only prove,
our blessed mission is here to stay.

The hallway echoed sounds of lonesome tears,
while heavy rain pounded the roof;
A mysterious voice--soft and solemn--spoke,
through the wide open windows of truth.

Among the hushed sense of breathless fear,
an apparition whirled into view;
Unsettled yet somehow peaceful,.
its presence prompted a hopeful clue.

A misty haze gathered 'round the wraith,
its voice became halting and slow;
The crying then ceased as did the rain,
leaving a ghost with nowhere to go.

Its earthly mission having been resolved,
a stairway appeared straight ahead;
Floating down steps to the mirrored wall,
reflecting a vision so genuinely sad.

Suddenly those sounds of anguished tears,
could be heard again from the hall;
Our ghost was perplexed about this event,
for which it had previously answered the call.

With its supernatural power and strength,
and a wave of gossamer charm;
The tears were stilled and the house grew light,
no longer a cause for alarm.

This tale is one of quaint mystery,
of a world filled with hurt and sorrow;
But our magical friend put up a fight;
then vanished into the new fallen snow.

Once I passed by a child who was crying,
an ocean of tears dripping down her cheeks;
I had no way of knowing her dilemma,
she touched her lips as if she couldn't speak.

We wandered down the street to the bakery,
where I bought some milk and chocolate cupcakes;
Her ragged dress was smeared with oil and dirt,
she finally smiled when gobbling down the cake.

How many other children lay in wait for us,
to help them get their daily needs attended ?
We went to a nearby Thrift Store for some clothing,
and I found a little dress that needed mending.

I took her to my home and fixed the dress,
by that time her eyes began to shine;
I'd never seen such a look of gratitude,
and she took her hand and placed it into mine.

By now, this young lady is back with family,
the poorest of the poor they certainly are;
So when you see someone whose needs are ample,
please lend a hand and be their "superstar" !

While mired in a world of fantasy elite,
reacting to the sound of running feet;
Bewitched by clowns whose faces white,
become an awkward refuge from the night.

I've traveled along this crowded path,
where sensibility is gobbled up by wrath;
By echoing words which others claim,
to preserve each sound of harsh refrain.

How comical to see the road diverge,
where laughs will follow a lonely dirge;
Left behind is the stigma of waging wars,
and nothing ends 'till we know the score.

Each colorless emotion soon gravitates,
with an emptiness no one can erase;
While fantasies evolve toward dissolution,
each beating heart finds its own solution.

Recalling how the world evolved,
in strains of aging melodies;
Resigned once more to waters' edge,
aligned with ancient harmonies.

In books are answers fully formed,
but life never seems the same;
As what's described in honored texts,
with words that shelter shame.

I suppose we tried our very best,
to make right the awful wrongs;
And reach beyond the sinful ways,
while meandering through the fog.

And forcing us to readily accept,
our lack of conscience in the past;
Change will revive the newest plan,
when common ground arrives at last.

And with such change the music thrives,
through frothy ocean waves;
Inspiring love from spirits' sounds,
reflecting all that we have saved.

Uneven as the limbs of a tree reaching out,
in chaotic patterns, a tormented version of a
scarecrow's domain--
How is it that Autumn presses against my skin
like shimmering opals' serenity diffused by
the mountain rain ?
Only the amber leaves left on the ground,
wet and worn, alone and somber, could tell
the tale of a fractured world...and so it goes...

Flailing, bitter wind passes through its lowering
branches,
keeping shadows at bay, forlorn and captive--
Carefully, each candle-lit carousel of angels dips
deeply into the heart of human existence,
moving relentlessly toward resolve...and so it goes...

Yet, the cold dark winter arrives in a burst of
alabaster snow, an orchard of white light amid the
coal-streaked sky--
Ironically, a peaceful resistance to the haunted echoes
of mindful thought, aroused then placated, determined to
find respite in the glancing waves of light--
Only tomorrow will arrive with its relinquished dreams,
all for nothing, everything subverted--
Then somehow the serenity of closed wounds refreshes
the flourishing gardens with misty roses blooming,
their unleashed and aromatic perfumes permeating the
crisp air--
Such pleasantries still prevail..and so it goes...

Alas, Spring and Summer seem to mesh in twinkling
stars worthy of my gaze--
My voice would whisper gently to the gods
to envelop me in an umbrella of truth, wisdom and
future aspirations--
Enchanted by the dancing diamonds in the sky,
I breathe a sigh of wonder, while the balmy nights
enhance the restless thoughts of  youth...and so it goes...


But October is the best of times, its extravagance wrapped
in cinnamon and cloves, melancholy in its stance,
yet powerful in its essence--
A menagerie of coral, bronze, and burgundy,
with pearly frost laying upon the pumpkins--
Restless souls embark on another seasonal journey,
through this picturesque tranquility and solace--
And so it goes...

But when will the dawn keep its word ?
Why does it shun our desire to walk along the waters
of Divinity ?
The rippled lake seems colored with confusion,
the azure sky mirrored on its face,
Where waterfalls crash into a heap of helpless tears
of humanity...and so it goes...

While mankind's Will senses its destiny ahead,
the finite meets the infinite, the chaos dissipates
in shallow graves,
and the scarecrows rise above the winds of change--
The world, still uneven, yet the universe waits while the growing tension leaves our souls,
flying away toward that starlit sky where life keeps
its eternal secrets...and so it goes...

Time is just a transitory journey,
which captivates the moment's eye;
And uplifts all wondering gazes,
toward a sense of spirituality on high.

The seekers we have soon become,
fly endlessly through treasured spaces;
And give joyous meaning to our lives,
despite the clouds' attempts to erase us.

As shadows fall around the stalwart trees,
they beckon to our core of resistance;
And soon our loathsome shells of fear dissolve,
while our souls struggle to go the distance.

The ephemeral notion appears as a quandary,
whenever we tend to question its true value;
In a blink of a eye the mystical moment passes,
yet with serenity and calm we find renewal.

Monday mornings bring a new start,
to focus on the most important things;
Looking toward a spirit of renewal,
seeing the path before us begin.

It's in the light of one's own heart,
the love flowing within the soul;
That reaches out to those who need,
to share their trials and their goals.

Hearts beat with a single promise,
one that will show the proper way;
To treat one another with respect,
trying to learn the lessons at play.

Humanity is such a stunning force,
the gift of tomorrows surely resides;
In a world which we can seek to create,
despite temptations to run and hide.

In morning's light a souls awakens,
with its senses full and keen;
Yet often fearful themes arise,
projecting doubts upon the scene.

As veils of shadows soon appear,
with dark and furious might;
Perplexing thoughts run wild and free,
like phantoms of the night.

Within the heart one can detect,
the torment which assails;
Despite arrival of the dawn,
and the wonders that prevail.

Then suddenly a gust of wind,
erupts in raging force;
And through the room an icy blast,
eases worrisome discourse.

With an eerie calm that follows,
one finds a peaceful claim;
Laid out by angels from above,
whose work was not in vain.

The grace of these holy messengers,
and true faith that still abides;
We can conquer troubles of the heart,
with the Good Lord at our side.

Walking along the silent road,
thinking of where I've been;
Taking the time to set to rhyme,
all the music flowing within.

Questions have always haunted me,
the answers never seemed to come;
But in the melodies of the night,
I hear the beating of a drum.

Or is it just my lonely heart,
that thumps inside my chest ?
And when the darkness rises full,
will life's purpose come to rest ?

Yet in the moonlit skies above,
my quest seems small and meek;
For soon the rains of autumn fall,
laying kisses upon my cheeks.

Breezes from the sea-tides relay,
songs of wistful longing near the bay;
Harsh winds shape each mellow mood,
landing at the shore where lovers stood.

Against a backdrop of turquoise skies,
the lovers kiss and share sad goodbyes;
Still recalling how whispers in the night,
enhanced each precious moment of delight.

And on the beach where romance grew,
entwined in hearts that always knew;
Forever was a distant thought to bear,
within their brief and passionate affair.

But watching the sun set in the West,
the cool air blew gently as if blessed;
By answers found from the mysteries,
of hopeful visions carried 'cross the sea.

February snowfall displays its beauty,
in frozen alabaster petals from the sky;
Falling delicately they paint an ornate picture,
which reflects its luminosity from on high.

The winter world spins gently as it weaves,
a glowing tapestry of gossamer angels' flight;
The glory of the heavens speaking volumes,
as the sweeping winds call out to their delight.

Suddenly the steely sky brightens overhead,
as the moon appears and shows its pearly face;
To give honor to the goddess known as Amethyst,
with the crystalline shine of royal purple's trace.

Any moment now deep slumber will arrive,
with the dreams of nightfall and its wintry grace;
Where God's angels warm the spirit in abundance,
and soothe all hearts in a memorable embrace.

Behold, the resurgence of brilliant stars uniting,
as the Almighty relays His will unto the earth;
The faithful gather 'round in prayerful singing,
rejoicing freely from their spirits' holy berth.

Reaching out to share the massive glory,
of Heaven's spark released upon the ground;
Our minds are touched by saintly prophets' words,
when inspired by soulful melodies profound.

While our Savior is still walking with the angels,
and telling the tale familiar to them all;
His Father sends Him down to help the people,
to spread messages of love and heed His call.

And now we look to honor His Son's sacrifice,
as the world still spins yet suffers from delusions;
Which easily tempt our daily thoughts and visions,
until we find a sacred way through life's confusion.

It hardly seems a day has passed,
when berries ripened on the vine;
The sunshine came in mystic flair,
while we poured out the finest wine.

During our celebration we sang,
of the past and present joys;
Although our feast was jubilant,
today it seemed more like noise.

Neighbors and friends toasted the vines,
which put forth the sweetest grapes;
Then the sky turned dark and stormy,
with a cloudburst in our wake.

Heads pounding from the thunder sent,
to arouse our deep suspicions;
Of phantoms scouring our timely event,
bringing mystery and mass confusion.

My body shook with jolts of lightning,
my face feverish from the heat;
The wine was captured by the wraiths,
which had envied this glorious meeting.

As children we often read fairy tales,
those lovely stories to ease our minds;
But now the days are like the mist,
which still cover the purple vines.

There's a giant lot filled with grassy roots,
and flowers dead and gone;
A lonesome tree stands withered,
with its limbs now meek not strong.

It's an eerie place around the bend,
where we used to run and play;
But now the sunlight never shines,
in this hollow world of gray.

I recall the folks who lived there,
for years ago we often came;
To climb upon the hearty tree,
looking out to far off lands.

The house was a museum piece,
a bit crumpled but still standing;
Until a blizzard tore the roof,
and it crashed upon the landing.

I never knew what happened then,
for these folks moved from the city;
And left this ancient 'house of cards',
to rot away without heartfelt pity.

And so the ghost-like yard still stands,
around the corner where we would wander;
My spirit still resides within the gates,
along with memories of days much kinder.

The cherry trees dance while blossoms fall,
as if heavenly angels have come to call;
And willing winds fly through dogwood trees,
their leaves dotting landscapes from the breeze.

All this occurring in a dream-filled land,
of poets and prophets in glory's stand;
And gardens overflowing with daffodils,
waving yellow flags from giant hills.

The glancing birds fly off to greet,
in sunbursts' skies of colorful treat;
And rainbows curve their way to gold,
a cherished gift for both young and old.

Delicate as the blossoms may be,
their worth is greater than that of the sea;
While continuing to shed fragrant melodies,
and reviving sweet springtime's reverie.

My life is a culmination of
a series of miraculous events;
Touched by an angel at birth,
and carried through days of delight;
Where the smell of moist lilacs hangs
in the misty air like clouds of the past,
and wonders of the future;
And the sun beats readily upon the
crystal glass from which I peer,
My roaming eyes examining the magic of
everyday moments, allowing my soul to thrive;
Connecting all that's good in the world,
to rise and comfort me in everlasting glow;
As always, with deep gratitude and amazement.

We sat on the porch watching stars,
the night was supple and warm;
Into the sky we sent our dreams,
being mesmerized by its charms.

Next door a record played aloud,
a song we'd never known;
While holding hands we hummed along,
and the music became our own.

A blissful evening of deepest love,
began with just one kiss;
It seemed our dreams had come alive,
with heartfelt joy we dare not miss.

And as the notes floated through the air,
we exchanged a solemn vow;
To dance through life as husband and wife,
while remembering the 'here and now'.

Once in awhile you sense a mystery,
from all that swirls within the night;
It carries your heart to an open door,
where you can discover a softer light.

This shine will greet your heavy heart,
with shades of golden warmth;
It covers you with twinkling stars,
and elevates your ebbing worth.

This journey brings a certain peace,
which quietly lives inside your soul;
The sparkling heavens then illuminate,
the truest path to your lifelong goal.

It seems the darkness of each night,
inspires that yearning feeling;
A loss of control so frightening,
it sends our emotions reeling.

But if you walk beyond that sunny door,
and bask in its wealth of honor;
Your life will improve with every step,
as dawn arrives in glorious wonder !

The gripping storm relishes its moments,
of creating shadows across our land;
They're wide and high with darkness,
and never let go of the journey planned.

We feel them in the weary night,
as the storm gathers them together;
A harrowing sight looming over us,
as we pray for a break in the weather.

Will we be gobbled up by phantoms,
wandering through our nightly pose ?
Or will we escape the nameless horror,
and settle in for a calming repose ?

Cry for angels who'll tell the tale,
of whirling visions that spread their wings;
Apparitions are cursed to dull the pain,
which relieves the shadows' sting.

As they soon fall in the faded night,
and the raging storm relents;
A faithful choir of heavenly hosts,
will rise up as the shadows repent.

Reading between the lines of love,
I recognized this tale of woe;
It sizzled with a panicky voice,
and growled with anger rising slow.

The parchment pages rustled handily,
my fingers framed each word;
Perspiring now my hands were soaked,
in images which propelled the sword.

But no tears arose from mockery or shame,
while reading the familiar flow;
Of my gallant efforts to show the world,
there was more to my work than show.

Yet somehow in the gruesome night,
a thief had coveted my manuscript;
As I stood aghast in the bookstore,
each stolen page I hastily began to rip.

Can anyone else ever possibly know,
how very startling it is to see;
A literary fraud which breaks apart,
the inspiration for a writer's purity.

Growing in the side yard of our old house,
were mint leaves basking in the summer sun--
Sitting in the kitchen with windows opened wide,
the ruffled curtains fluttering in the warm breeze--
I could taste the scented air as I drank my lemonade,
from grandma's crystal pitcher with floral etchings.

A porcelain cookie jar shaped like a happy homemaker,
sat quaintly in the corner of our green kitchen counter--
The cotton tablecloth swirled with bright colored birds,
partially shaded by the lowering of the evening sun--
Kneeling at the window I saw a bounty of honeysuckles,
which added to the sweetness of summer's breath.

Mom would dish out bowls of butter almond ice cream,
a delightful gift brought earlier from her close cousin Jean--
And often we'd play Scrabble long into the night,
(she was the brightest of us all, a winner in every way)--
Then we'd go outside by the pool and watch lightning bugs,
as they flitted around the giant maple tree in delight.

From my room I'd hear the humming of the pool's filter,
and Daddy's reassuring voice in rhythm with the sound--
My younger sister and brother would grab hold of me,
as we chased our playful pup down the stairs toward the porch--
And sat in the twilight with love surrounding us,
before bed-time arrived and engulfed us in peaceful sleep.

Growing in the side-yard of our house in Villa Park,
were mint leaves basking in the summer sun--
Sitting in the kitchen with windows opened wide,
the ruffled curtains fluttering in the warm breeze--
I could taste the scented air as I drank my lemonade,
poured from my grandmother Mary's heavy glass pitcher,
artfully embossed with floral etchings.


A porcelain cookie jar shaped like a happy homemaker,
sat quaintly in the corner of our green kitchen counter--
The cotton tablecloth swirled with bright colored birds,
partially shaded by the lowering of the evening sun.
Kneeling at the window I saw a bounty of honeysuckles,
which enhanced the sweetness of summer's breath.


Mom would dish out bowls of butter-almond ice cream,
a delicious treat brought earlier by her cousin Jean--
And often we'd play Scrabble long into the night,
(Mom was the brightest of us all, a winner in every way);
then we'd head outside toward the backyard pool
To watch lightning bugs flitting in delight around
our giant maple tree, catching a few as they floated past us.


Later, from my room, I'd hear the humming of the pool's filter,
and Daddy's reassuring voice practically in rhythm with the sound--
My younger siblings would grab hold of me as we chased our
playful pup down the stairs and onto the front porch--
There, we sat in the twilight watching Dad survey the moon,
with Mom commenting on the twinkling stars above--
And we knew, wholeheartedly, that love surrounded us,
before bedtime arrived and engulfed us in peaceful sleep.

Climbing up the tree of sanity,
forgetting how I came to be;
A beginning or an ending calls,
between the fanciful purple walls.

Moving onward to reach the top,
looking forward to where I'd stop;
I've seen the mischief behind the walls,
where squabbles twist like little squalls.

Now where could I find my own place,
to start and end this boundless race ?
A step toward home is what I need,
yet wanderlust has been my creed.

It's all a fantasy that sweeps away,
the musky scent of battles at play;
On awakening from this hapless dream,
the world arranges another scheme.

And purple walls come tumbling down,
like violets torn from the underground;
But with the colors they have shown,
at last I've reached my sacred home.

The mood seems desolate at dusk,
a time when emotions are on the rise;
The shining hours of day are gone,
and mystical images confront our eyes.

Not quite sure of what we see,
in the vastness of the indigo skies;
'Round about the glowing lamps of light,
keenly focused upon iridescent sights.

Are we witnessing life's mysteries unfold,
the way our elders' stories told ?
Yet darker still our evening grows,
shivering, shaking in the windless cold.

Sitting close on our front porch swing,
seeking wonders of imagining;
There they go--the ghosts of our youth,
which beckon still despite the sting.

We're not alone as visions float by,
and dawn reveals what the future may bring.

Frances McClelland
July 17, 2016

Meandering minds recall their place,
with fraught emotions tangled;
Appearing in a shadowy world,
where words are torn and mangled.

In recesses of profound desire,
when fiery images lose their way;
Through many doors they've wandered,
yet their souls are tossed and frayed.

Again and again this fire deploys,
a fiercely bound intention;
To rise among the smoke and ash,
lifting hope for mass redemption.

So many doors from which to choose,
for the fractured shells of every man;
Laying undisturbed to diffuse the flames,
in the wild and wind-swept rain.

There's another time before this time,
frequently lost in space;
A kaleidoscope of fears and doubts,
desperately longing to escape.

But in that world of inexplicable time,
worry dominates thought;
The needless, mindless misery,
from a heart that can't be bought.

Wherein lies the answer still,
for moments tossed aside ?
As torment and grief curve into waves,
roaming aimlessly through the tides.

We may never know from where it comes,
the substantive relief;
But perhaps one day the ebb and flow,
will rescue our beliefs !

Burning high above the clouds,
a late-summer moon on display;
Warns us that our days are few,
'till the solstice will fly away.

In August the moon is wistful,
despite its white hot light;
Reminding us that Autumn's near,
leaving behind a summer's delight.

The nights are still warm and balmy,
as we lie upon the golden sands;
And count the rings around the moon,
while cuddling, hand in hand.

The moon shares all its secrets,
of enduring love and bright romance;
This August moon defines our feelings,
and leads us toward our wedding dance !

Raucous laughter would permeate the air,
as we rode along in Papa's old jalopy;
Pretending we're in Cinderella's carriage,
wearing silken gowns and jewelry aplenty.

A 'pumpkin's fantasy' coach drove us away,
our makeup pressed against the autumn breeze;
And bouncing far along the darkened roadway,
our 'carriage' turned then coasted down with ease.

We happily arrived at the prom's destination,
with eager smiles we floated through the door;
Boys with drinks in hand watched as we giggled,
while they made their way across the tile floor.

The magic of the music brought us closer,
awakening me to rainbow colors all around;
As if in a dream we wound up in the moonlight,
sharing champagne beneath its shine upon the ground

Then somewhere in the night a stolen kiss,
with all my intimate passions softly glowing;
Beyond the former world of make believe,
a love for life in future days was growing.

Clinging to the words of inspiration,
marking every moment of elation;
Seeking to propel this last creation,
into avenues of thought and admiration.

Crowded paths of overflowing minds,
convey messages of life in clever rhymes;
Mystic images might often seem sublime,
denoting worthiness of our substantial time.

We go about the day as wonders grow,
and fill the void of empty-headed show;
Words appearing magically in streaming flow,
awakening like blossoms under the snow.

And with the latest work at fingers' touch,
we let the public share in curious watch;
With hope--ideas stir toward faithful trust,
of connections made by willing poets' ******.

The intoxicating freshness of autumn,
with trees swaying in defiance of nature's change;
And the singed dusk crackling in fiery red,
competes with final scents of summer's claim...

A profound sense of possibility lingers still,
fulfilling hopeful views released by fate;
While love's luminous lantern's constant burn,
arises in aromatic lushness at the gate.

Triumphant in the numinous effects,
that brings humanity falling to its knees;
Watching leaves drift softly by in random,
as stars align like ships upon the sea.

Impulsive winds begin their haunting play,
to sounds of aimless footsteps from the stairs;
And in the garden's fading wisp of flowers,
soulful mysteries dissolve in varnished air.

While mysteries surround us in every way,
and we find ourselves wandering every day;
Those eerie voices that subjugate reality,
attack our inner selves with regularity.

A maze of sinister plots begins to appear,
within the galaxy of our cosmic fears;
And no rest or respite from the curse,
leaves a withering light to remain dispersed.

Awareness often brings us to the surface,
of things necessary to pursue our purpose;
But confusion can reign without a doubt,
especially if starkness of mind wins out.

How difficult to master the sullen sphere,
without finding a world beyond our tears;
Releasing the sadness as we try to ascend,
the notions overwhelming us to the end.

Life often brings such ageless quandaries,
confusing each moment with their boundaries;
While emitting sources which seem unsure,
if such puzzles relent to seek a cure.

Escape is not the way toward resolution,
a runaway soul needs more than quick solutions;
While mindless measures trample every chance,
to see the changes wrought in tactless glance.

Despite new moves that carry you along,
those shattered scenes create a mellow song;
And when each word of comfort goes awry,
the heart grows restless for sweet lullabies.

In haste the mind's uneasy sense of fate,
renews sad memories than can never wait;
And the lonely waning hours of the evening,
foment all wretched fears upon the grieving.

Reflecting now on visions fraught with terror,
encircling the outer edge of 'now or never';
A sudden burst of life reclaims the soul,
as wisdom takes its place in honor's role.

I stroll along the plateaus of deception,
beneath me lies the valley of rejection;
I can see the distant vistas that proclaim,
their forces which reflect life's secret shame.

The path to righteous ways becomes a myth,
and souls refute each argument that shifts;
To swollen skies of ghosts which envy saints,
then fall into the chasm of their fate.

The dangling stars project ethereal light,
in universal swoon of sheer delight;
From awestruck signals demonstrating power,
rolling thunder throughout each waking hour.

My shadow leaves me all alone to ponder,
this eerie sense of apocalyptic wonder;
And even if one soul evolves toward sanity,
it's quite enough to salvage all humanity.

To and from the bar in a drunken stupor,
not knowing or caring if I live or die;
My self-worth descends to the lowest level,
while obsessing on the tears I've yet to cry.

Back home again I face an empty page,
no words but my own name and a silly title;
Exhaustion peaks at noon while coffee perks,
but maybe just a touch of scotch to settle .

I feel as If I'm crawling deep within,
an abyss of more self-pity and endless fears;
My senses dulled by alcohol won't revive,
until the soulless spirits disappear.

Looking out the window to the night,
as the harvest moon glows gently in the sky;
And pour my cup of coffee as I gaze,
at this cosmic miracle shining before my eyes.

The darkness seems to halt then dissipate,
bringing hope this stardust scene would last forever;
Then facing scrawls of words which lay before me,
I'm aware the time for change is now or never.

The day seems to float like wind-song,
its music carries my heart along;
Today blends wearily into yesterday,
and tomorrow I fear will fade away.

Inside my mind the whistling starts,
a tune which smothers and tears apart;
The waking stream of consciousness,
through mystic strains we all possess.

"Back to basics" seems a somber line,
for the hours spent assuaging time;
Learning how to play life's game,
while sharing moments--all the same.

Admitting things have gone awry,
one kiss and then we say goodbye;
Across the mellow fields of lavender,
we close our eyes and dance forever.

Wherever light dispels the hate,
our poems rhyme at heaven's gate;
We seek the spirit of the night,
to cast away our painful plight.

With Jesus dying for our sins,
His holy wounds a sacred glimpse;
Of fateful death upon the Cross,
to build up hopes despite our loss.

Yet frightened notions may exist,
in minds and souls that still persist;
To turn away from sacrificial love,
and angels flying with the Dove.

Surrender toward the saintly sphere,
where songs are sung and lilies appear;
The glow of light shines into hearts,
which Christ will never tear apart.

At first there was a gust of wind,
that shattered meager minds;
Forever gone those broken dreams,
now replaced by curious rhymes.

From the essence of a spirit's voice,
the flowing breezes contemplate;
Each thought diminished by the cold,
which freezing rains soon dissipate.

In countless times of pondering,
where a moment starts and ends;
Left demolished in a whirl of smoke,
that shrouds what words intend.

As emptiness creeps within a heart,
which once was filled with bliss;
A stranger walks upon the earth,
to find what he has missed.

With mighty forces at his side,
an icy blast is blown apart;
And destiny arrives to save,
secrets held right from the start.

Mysteries surround me everywhere,
those incomprehensible puzzles;
Which take me to the oddest places,
in my mind, I'm quite befuddled !

Throughout my youth I was lonely,
hiding away in the attic with books;
And music that would assuage misery,
every evening I crawled through nooks.

I recall how mesmerized I could be,
by the power of the written word;
I sought to write about my torment,
but was afraid I wouldn't be heard.

With the wafting of each musical strain,
it was easy to imagine and pretend;
I'd hum along with pristine tunes,
sending my heart into such a spin !

I'm still that shy person who wanders about,
with visions swirling through my head;
Yet somehow despite my complex existence,
within me, there's no fear nor dread.

Befuddled as I may always be,
the language of love and life will endure;
I'll see a sign posted on the road one day,
beckoning me toward an open door !