Ready for this pandemic to be over, but who isn't! 7/2020
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as
Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own
Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.
The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down
One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.