The creek murmurs, its voice a soft thread
through the amber scattered leaves.
A maple sheds one last colorful nod,
its fall a quiet farewell.

The breeze stirs secrets between the willows,
while the last birds of the season etch their
goodbyes across the fading sky.

The water carries it all - a twig, a shadow,
the fleeting breath of autumn.

Dusk settles, the first stars flicker.
The creek flows on, holding
the season's wonder:

Renaissance man feels blasé faire, nevertheless he promised to rescue a damsel in distress (locked up against her will in a castle keep, this - courtesy a bishop prick with a mean mien), now I feel miffed because said lass (lady in red, she danced with me for an extra hour viz during longest day of the year re: transition to standard time), saith to yours truly, a good knight in rusty armor and much to my delight I (a boyish looking sexagenarian) struck up an instantaneous joie de vivre rapport upon when she coquettishly lowered, fluttered, batted lashes at the speed of sound, qua non verba

At the Central Hospital School of Nursing
students and tutors became acquainted
by throwing beanbags and naming their target
until we knew each other by heart.
Patients were already labelled and filed:
a shuffling gait indicated psychosis,
fine tremors, dystonia a dual diagnosis,
memory loss a mood disorder,
lipstick and make-up delusions of grandeur.
Signs and symptoms delineated, broken brains
marinated on shelves or laid head to head
in the back wards sleeping.
The hypnotic effect of asylums was seeping

needs tilling in the dark,

With a long handled hoe, white gloves

and a hardened heart.

A broken shed with wooden ribs-

needs mending now and then

not to keep the water out

but to let it in.

Contest Topic: A poem of advice

With These Words...

Barely three, at my father's knee
here's some gems he taught to me;

"My darlin' girl, don't tell a lie;
keep your truths close to your heart
put some effort into your "try."

White lies are small things, at first
soon become a darker shade,
this road now taken, is truly cursed.

Little lies meant to cover a deed
grow, in size, becoming a stain,
so these, my words, you must heed.

If tomorrow never comes
I am not sure if I will be
Here tomorrow
If my father keeps me alive
Tomorrow I will be happy
I also know that I only live once
I won't live forever
So I must live my life
Every day to the fullest
We must choose peace
Not war
We must put our guns down
And stop training children to be soldiers
In the war
Children has the right to an education
Children have the right to be children
And to play with other children
Where it is safe

Oh thank you Lord for loving me,
By your reflection you've helped me see.
The way, the light, your purpose for me,
And with gratitude I fight, ever forward with glee.

For beneath a mask of determined will,
Is a long lost tale of waters stilled.
Murky rivers that run ever deep.
Of a journey, a road, that's so steep.

Along the way, many twists and turns,
Saw me ducking from lemons, helped me to learn.
Although my journey is now on go slow,
Despite its groaning, it still allows me to grow.

The sign still says I'm welcome,
The population's still quite small.
One more mile before I'll know,
If I'll recognize this place at all.

What I see before me now,
Is the place I longed to see.
Businesses still line the streets,
I use to climb that big oak tree.

The city square and band shell,
The big clock that tells the time.
I feared they might be gone forever,
From this old home town of mine.

he went for a brain MRI
no surprise, he's the brain of a fly
when asked how it was
he replied with a buzz
...since July, it's his only reply

ENSLAVED IN WONDER