It's a cool spring southern day
I, yet, wipe sweat from my bare brow
and pause to watch a sedge field sway
while listening to a lowing cow.

I lean on a shovel for support.
Knees ache from digging the six holes
which now hold trees, more than one sort,
their trunks too small to be called boles.

Two apple, two peach and two pear
now paced along my gravel drive.
In a year or two perhaps they'll bear
if by then they're still alive.

Sometimes i wonder!
If the life we living is what is expected of us,
Sometimes i wonder!
if what is been preached to us,is what is expected of us to follow?
i become so lost in thougth,thinking we've been mis-lead!
If the Holy books conferred unto us,by the Generator f All Diversities (GOD)
has not been tempered with!
Only do i know,we've been fed with Beautiful lies,
Spreading around like a wild fire! aint a dis-believer,
i know the almighty being exist (GOD)
A pure mind does it all!

What will I say
When by You I lay
Down there is joy
Getting Your hands like a toy

Longing to make it so
Never see it a show
Could have it all long
Dwell right in strong

Waiting till it gets ablaze
'Cause all I need is a gaze
Your sighs get my eyes close
Put in the hand I chose

Keep it up,You are distinct
Let it be more than instinct
Ways apart must surely be
All I love is You to see

Thumbed through, passed down.

I thumb through the new vellum, and cream pages sent;
then notice little oval blood contours,
that match my own (spent days before).
Log spiked, thumb pricked, balloon of blood,

blotted on denim, anointed to ground.
And yet, one thing stood out that still astounds,
in distance and in time, by my slow read,
meant I had not thumbed as far through your gift.

When the sun won't let you sleep,
what do you do? Is your mind quiet?
Or as loud as your ears being filled
with water? Do you get goose bumps
as the vibrant color of the sun rises
as to say that its morning on your
side of earth? Do you think about how
happy you would be with a little more
darkness litten up by stares? Do you
think about the biggest star? Do you
think about your biggest love?

Woman, I have loved you since before the World began
and I shall never leave you, nay not even if I can.
I learned your name long ere the Sun and silver Moon arose.
No spirit walked the Earth alone before ‘twas you I chose.
The Music of the vast blue seas was silent when I saw
compassion in your hazel eyes that held me rapt in awe.
Your grace and beauty first perceived renew each moment since.
Your every move, unspoken word does all of this evince.
Ere long I’ll hear no melody that owes its glory to

Ariadne hangs her head low
As her eyes scan the pale cloudless sky
Mirrored from a slither of glass
Perched on an edge of earth below

Flying high, she sees, a truth that's buried deep
To reveal and let truth soar
Ariadne must first learn
to see straight
And with her sensitive senses,
navigate

we rowed across the loch
in darkness
going to our island
in a boat whose pattern
came from Vikings,
Moon a slivered crescent
over watchful mountains,
bright enough to see,
faint enough
to let the stars shine through,
only unseen peaks
cutting off bright swathes
of universe in cloudless sky,
stretching to forever’s edge.

I could smell the forest
on approaching shore,
pines and oaks all crowded close
on rocky slopes,
marching down to sea
as smooth and still as glass.

Waking in a sand blast of bad sleep
past some blinded Sphinx
I hear the chalkboard scream
of a yard pigeon dying
as bars slam through orange,
making the same sound
as teeth rubbing against stone.
I know one thing vaguely
as ever; I am inheriting
these stems of your dementia
Cell by cell. For want
of ritual plastic burns,
Mop wigs, kool aid lip balm,
bored with sharp origami
in a men’s colony, you pause
a moment in rec time
to fingerpaint a wail
wide as a rude thumb

“Look closely at your wife-to- be’s mother,
As she will look like that in in 40 years”
Said by my father

Yes, dad, that is in fact the case,
But what you didn’t say is
I would get old and look like you,
The same wrinkles by my chin,
The same arrogance in my grin.

Before you drifted into silence you said,
So monotone, “I am living in my memories."
Then the dementia won, the life force faded,
Like a flame waning from a once boisterous candle.