To offer petals poised in palms
a rose blossom depicts my heart

and here,

quite softly placed, this gift

is where my words shall start.

It isn't in the cost that's spent
nor of the highest caliber

but rose it is
for what is meant-

my gift of me to you.

'Tis yours to keep and compliment

the air you breathe,
the life you make;

to treasure or to circumvent
when needing it to be.

Of me this gift contends a smile,
a vibrant boast of energy

Through grandpa's pasture plans were made
to build steel giants through the glade
and string upon them power lines
where to this day the wind still whines

For each tower were dug four holes
twenty feet deep for each leg's poles
and in each a twenty foot ground rod
ending forty feet below the sod

Next came the erection crews
with their wrenches, bolts and tools
a hundred foot tower every other day
they'd bolt them then be on their way

Nothing ventured, nothing gained
and nothing's changed at all;
until the children die in vain
did someone think to call?

Sorry, are our tomorrows
as the branding iron burns,
with the flesh of our existence
on a dare, one finally learns.

And, so we try and organize
so facts will all align;
but, it's too difficult to hear
a broken heart, over a troubled mind.

So, "logic" takes no time, at all
wrapping our heads around,
a war cry so ingenious
that, it doesn't make a sound.

There is so much to make up for
He has floundered and thrashed about
Maybe he could do more
If he just gets out

He tries and fails so frequently
Nothing seems to work
It seems to come quite naturally
For him to feel the jerk

Each day when he arises
He vows to do his best
But there are no surprises
When today is like the rest

The eternal optimistic
Maybe a different tomorrow
I guess the fates must be sadistic
They bring him only sorrow

There is an ethereal space where man defies gravity and bends supple as a deity.  It is here he rises before stars and radiates inner spirit from his heart; allows eyes to surface, views the softer venues of a woman's breasts, and finds her allure a powerful voice that beckons him to follow.

She is the piper, sensual with song to all who quiver in her wake, and she knows herself in all that is pure; all that is beautiful. She rises above his character and soars in the company of clouds and angels in her own light. 

I waited and waited as she had promised
She promised me and I had believed her as always,
I never learn and she never stop promising,
Still my reason for hurting wasn`t because she broke it,
It was in the way she spoke to me that broke my heart.

She does not get it and never will
As she breaks my heart into smaller pieces,
Those smaller pieces she expects me to love her with,
Is love really that patient? Doesn`t it have an end or it`s limits?

As A New Comer
You Must Know

Scribbler and Moon man
Are the two who give?
Excellently frank reviews
Scribbler still reads me
Off and on,
But the latter placed me
In the garbage can,
Where I rightly did belong
Then municipal guys came and ran
Took me in their van

I too write about autumn leaves,
Many poems, I’ve composed
But on every site I’ve been,
They all want to say
You are a Rose
As lovely poetry,
Wow you compose.

Love is nothing but pain
A slow, silent, smiling killer
Taking your heart to the highest heights
Making you float on a cloud,
As you start smelling roses,
Hearing melody of birds and enjoying the good in life.

It comes down,
Tells you how hard you will fall.

As confusion rushes in, your heart starts to pound
Suddenly you feel this rush of air, as you wonder...
You suddenly realise that the cloud has moved,
Slowly reaching the lowest height ,
Smell of thorns,
Surely going through that, shall kill me.

The land of many busy roads
off towards, the suns' demise;
up here, where the air is clear
there are castles in the skies.

Winters' chill is evermore
the ambience of the day;
as we struggle to find purchase
in the sand, and desert clay.

The wind coerces everyone
to "pause", and deeply "sigh";
without renewed perspective
one might cease, to even try.

I’d gladly walk a thousand miles
Naked and shoeless
and without bread or water
hoping to eat and drink of you
holding you in my embrace

I could sleep on a bed of nails
and still dreaming of you
If upon awakening, I could feel
the rise and fall of your chest

I would give my eyes to an Artist in need
for you are etched in my memories
If you promised I could see you within

My ears I would give to a deaf musician
In the hope that I could hear you whisper
with your angelic voice my name