(2013)
Monsters under our beds are phantoms in our heads. Gurus shout such ghosts at our ear… and fears.
here is where we chirp, written lines known as tweeting- compressed ideas— Bill D. Johnston (@bedeejay) ...
gentle breeze on the beach– sudden rain
The End will come too soon. Watch the land. Watch the seas Watch the skies for signs, for it… The End.
end of long trip around the solar system– finished the book
winter mirror mysterious prints at crosstime junction
He pretends to be a hard boiled eg… He actually has a soft yolk. Sometimes, when he acts tough, he is secretly fluid. If you get to know him, he removes
dropplets, dropping down, sinking slowly in soil are Mother’s helpers.
haiku are headlines reporting mother nature the insight stories
Went to the hall, talked Kingdom y’all through swapping yarns for we give a darn, then sang our songs.
She collected rainbows. She stored sunshine. She put moonlight away. She made stars into a crown. She drew picture clouds.
The archer aims, hoping it is true. The arrow flies. Is the eye hit new?
Broken by the vampires who suck life from souls with minimums that keep tires spinning in muck.
Snow melts. Waterfalls streaming rivulets off roofs slake the thirsty ground.
Pick up those cups. Embrace those days full of flavors. Savor every single drop. Drink up.
