Laying under the night sky, counting stars and thinking of you. Sound of Patches, in her paddock. Dreaming of your soldier boy. You feel life is good.   Driving home from work,. passing by the protesters. Screaming how evil the war is, soldiers are killers and murder babies. You turn your radio up louder, My Imagination by The Temptations, play on. Bringing calm back to you. What is your boy doing? you wonder as you shift...

Just the start of another day.  Your song comes on the radio. Sly & the Family Stone. "Thank You". As you wiggle in your jeans. You think of your boy, far far away. Sitting on the corner of your bed, you read his last sentence. "I'll be back in your arms, soon my love."   ...................... Just the start of another day. You unfold her letter, putting it to your nose. Inhaling deeply her scent. Sitting on your helmet,...

I packed my kilt away.Hung my trusty bess,on the wall.Drank deep from the well.Sturdy Jake harnessed,Joe, loyal Joe by my side.Thirty acres wait.Wheat to wave in the wind,Corn to give cover.Work to be done,on God's beautiful earth.  

Sleet hitting the windows,nothing stirring.Drifts of white powder,blanket your door.Your heart heavy,thoughts of what ifs.Close your eyes,quiet so deafening.Wash over you,begging to end the pain.Dreaming of dying,final release and peace.Drifts of new snow,sparkle like so many stars.Blanket your life.

Waiting for you, at our river spot. Under the wintery moon, to the hoots of snow owls. Stars so bright, to guide my way. Down to our special place, where I stole my first kiss. My heart burns hot, to touch you. And hold you tight, just once more. My lips turning blue, as ice forms. Wading in deeper, not waiting. Calling your name.                  

At the age of nine, lying in the children's ward. Rheumatic fever, burning though me. Nuns and Doctors come and go, tending a full ward of eight boys. Across from me lay a new boy, no more than five years old. Sadly for he had survived, his family fire. All day long crying between moans, begging for his mother. Nuns being quiet but still they knew, he would be with his mother tonight. Waking up to chaos, Doctors, Nuns and...

find a piece of peace look inward not outward nothing big never to small reach out touch your neighbors plant the seed allow the sun deep in ones heart for we all are one people let peace grow this Thanksgiving  amen.

You are my disease, with no cure. A  Kansas flower, blooming in the sun. Wisps of vapors across July skies. Rarity of a Mexicali  emerald.  Lonely wolf, telling his story. Under full harvest moon, Love won and lost. Trace your steps, on prairie fields. With a dry smile, stoop for that last prairie flower. Held to one’s lips, my drug, my life. My love. You are, and always will. Be my disease, with no cure.   

  Drinking my coffee, trying to remember. ... your voice ... your touch ... your laughter. As I sit, looking out our window. You come back to me. Deep from my heart. You gave me a squeeze. ... why ... why Have you left me. Drinking my coffee, looking out our window. Still I am looking, for answers. ... why ... why Have you gone?  

Wake UpWake UpOpen your eyes ..Do you see..A dirty face..A hungry bellyA child in need ..Do you care?Wake UpWake UpOpen your heart ....Show a smile..Hold the doorAllow love to bloom ..Do you take the timeWake UpWake UpBecome better ....Think of others..Not only for the holidaysWake UpWake Up 

Sun-dried mud on youthful faces. Waiting for the shrill sound of whistles. Rolling thunder, foot by foot. Sending earth tossed to heaven. Drips of crimson foam splash mates, along the trench lines. Orders barked with the shrill whistles. "Over the top boys!" Being met with rat a tat from the bloody Hun guns. O what a grand sight as the Black Watch moved. Once more the youth of Britain fed, the Fields of Flanders. We the p...

On bowed knee, eyes raised to the heavens. Heart deeply filled, with love and respect Searching darken skies, for glimpses of angels. One’s heart softens, due to love in one’s heart. Invisible walls crumble, to the sound of singing angels. Returning to the abbey, filled with knowing. Love brought by, angels in darken skies.   

When you appeared, as a vision of beauty. That hot summer day of 75, did either of us know? Our first meeting, you captured me with your beauty. Your deep brown eyes, stirred lust in my loins. Your body to worship, to explore and hold tight. As I questioned, my worthiness. I walked that night, and listenened to my inner voice. This lost soul found, angels singing pure love. Our journey continued, through trials and conque...

There is something haunting, of a full October moon. The lonely howl of a cur, deep on the moors. Leaves blowing helter, making skelter designs. Waxy eyes thirsty, for Autumn final fling. Wind rattling windows, as abandoned spirits roam. Free to dance, the dance of bones. To the hoot of owls, and screeching cats. Clock strikes midnight, for the witching hour is upon us.   B O O   Happy Halloween    . 

Dagger to one's heart, pierced deep. Words so strong, stunned from where? Not enough so, twisted with poisoned tongue. Take notice, one's world crumbles. Flame consume all, heart turns to ash. Leaving one to wonder, and stumble. One last stab, deep to one's soul.  Wind blows east, as if one never existed.