Black Clouds Thundering, Light fingers arc in heaven As Mother Earth Bathes
Finius Frog Flew Feverishly Forw… Following Fellow Flier Fickelste… Formations Fashioned From Flying… Furnish Flux, Frequently Facilit… First Fashioned For Fun, Fulker…
Butterflies flutter near the leave… Their direction is altered by a wa… And the fallen leaves rustle, scur… Like the squirrels who gather what… It’s a daydreamer’s day, footloose…
The Skylight’s Pink. There’s a H… In the mist and the morning shadow… Love and life, like a sculptures k… Has carved a world of sorrows. Grieving Blue, if all you knew
As the Blue-Moon rises In the monolithic sky It casts reflected light On the dead and the lame. The shadows, thus created,
I decided to write a sad love poem… the usual kind, it would lack the… passion, emotion, love, tenderness… betrayal, moonlight, midnight, sta… dreams, remembrances, and longing.
In Irish tales Of ships and sails And foggy glens With spirits bright There comes a tale
Renewed The odd lights flicker Along the midways set in sand. Cobblestones And melodious tones
Lying on the gravestones are the f… And the letters on the stones look… The dates set low on those stony s… And the largest letters spell the… As I look across the grounds, I s…
Cousin Wilber built an outhouse, But it’s not like all the rest, Its varnished oak, cedar lined, And engraved with the family crest… He’s got a turbine vent on top
Some say they’re feeling low Others say they’ve got the Blues All I know, there’s a darker plac… No matter what’s the name they use… Well I been low and I’ve been dow…
I once knew a woman whose name was… She filled me with lies and built… She took me to places that I’d ne… And lead me to fancy that “I was… She taunted and teased, consuming…
Some pray and ask for miracles, {But you do them every day}, They seem to think that you should… Some mountain ... pass away. All the proof is in your deeds,
Night’s shadow descends Upon my window’s curtain As sleep consumes me. ***JEF The Ships of State sail Among many types of storms
Too many walks in the park, dear… Yellow speckled freckles on fields… Autumn used her brush In a hurried rush Now Winter finds grays in which t…