Pleasant dreams. 3/2/24
When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old
The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched
The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles
Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often
Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal
Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,
On the brink of leaving, To go beyond These borders And say good-bye, To all you know,
The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while