Oh that in truth I might report to thee
a love that swells and rages like the sea.
Forsooth I state this missive as a plea,
that thou not turn thy face away from me.

A noble spirit takes not any glee
in knowing that within it holds a key;
this wounded heart can never now be free
excepting by the words of thy decree.

Oh let it be, that I from thee might flee
not like a bee, that darts beneath a tree
too blind to see, who bends upon one knee
to pay his fee; annoying little flea!

Tenacity drives
Perspicacity survives
Veracity thrives

Does beautiful poetry have to rhyme?
If the words flow like magic, every time
and nature is served with gardens of delight.
Where is need for perfect prose and insight?
The meaning is clear and loves message served,
I search each day for words that preserve
and deliver a rose with a note that reserve
that I will pursue loves secret each day.
No earthly expression encompasses adequate depth
to convey my beloved her meaningfulness.

If only life were to be so green
so serene
all human beings
would have loved to behave naturally
now it seems they have become mossy green
hiding behind trees green
see why I say so below

Women have become bolder than lords...
they now days
strike off with a knife...
those swords...
this once boasted all Lords...

I knew it was over when you spoke about her more passionately than you ever spoke about me. I never experienced heart break, but with every word of adoration your mouth formed about this brown eyed beauty, that didn't come close to my green ones. I could feel it slowly breaking apart.
How could you even talk about her to me, when you knew how much I loved you? Did you want me to resent you? To hate you? To talk about you the way you talked about her when she so selfishly used your love?

To those who prevaricate
And would try and implicate
By means that are intricate
Ones who would illuminate.

For those who malign
Will find that their design
To manipulate does not align
With the plans that are benign.

With this old adage, does one leave
In hoping those spinners perceive
"What a tangled web we weave
When we practice to deceive".

crystal morning
sunshine bounces
footsteps crackle

November clouds pounce
a snowflake licks my nose
I think my dog laughs

early winter
fauna are fat, flora, thin
come springtime, not so

ample harvest
root cellar is stuffed
tasty winter

snowflakes
smitten with the wind, twirl
tiny ballerinas

snow fences
a wobbly charm of their own;
a dancing grandma

silence of snow
muffled night
the fire roars

STARLIGHT WANING

Stars of crystal dimly burning.
a full moon of radiance pale
darken m y way to places unknown.
the world is dying and I follow.
my mind pursues its dreams
but suffers for what it sees,
how sad it is to be…..