It is lunchtime, and that should be a good thing, but I do not feel much like eating. Partially that’s because of how much I had for breakfast, and partially it is because my house has mirrors in it, and I see myself in them. I look like I rarely miss meals, and possibly knock … Continue reading "A Hollow Noon"
the journey far it seemed to never end; the highway turned — i thought it was my friend!
she tells me that she loves the day, the feel of sunlight on her skin, the energy within each breath she tells me she tells me and i sit marveling in thought outside myself within that mind are still more levels still more depth and wondering and wondering i watch as she her day attends … Continue reading "Yenay (i)"
The seasons come and go, and we retire Into a book, a series or a show; To football games, or RPG’s we flee, Escaping from that thing we do not know, And yet which haunts us, keeping us from rest. How beautiful this Christmas was, and yet The endless January comes, and we Get lost … Continue reading "4 Love Notes – 4"
At first to act You have to feel; Thats how we knew That love was real — When wishes made of time Spread out And we had little (Any) doubt — But time slows down And some ways, stops: As new hope rises, Old hope drops And we are left Disturbed; unsure Of source of … Continue reading "4 Love Notes – 3"
The fog creeps in The chilly mist The gray takes over We exist And life seems frozen Lassitude And joy a fleeting Thought dismissed. But one brief glance And comes the fire Weary yes But still desire Pushes through The slog of day The soul’s one part That doesn’t tire — Come fog come And … Continue reading "4 Love Notes – 2"
As nature waits, now, so do I. The stillness hangs in heart and sky; The winter knows, but quiet keeps — We’ll come together, by-and-by. Not all of love is bounds and leaps: To heal - to grow - it often sleeps As all around it comes the cold, It sits becalmed amid the heaps. … Continue reading "4 Love Notes – 1"
Most days aren’t great days; A few are bad — Many moments held become Just things we had — Cold can cut through spirits more Than any scythe — And most love isn’t *that* love, And such Is life
shackled to this frosted season the ocean roars its loud disdain to a snow-deaf world