(2013)
Thoughts on how everyone has something powerful to give.
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as
At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,
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
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Red cardinal dancing On white snow, How regal you appear With your cloak of red, How it cheers my heart
Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.