Her heart would go where it would go
She wished, at first, it wasn’t so
But so betrayed, and so beguiled
She wandered off into the wild

Of what her feelings really were
Of things, she found, that sudden sure
Had always been inside her heart
Covert and hidden, at the start —

To finally surface and break through

To love as she was meant to do

Halloween – Autumn Road (Sonnet)

The light has dawned upon her waking thoughts
As she goes through the woods at jogger’s pace
Unravelling a mind tied up in knots
As cold meets warm, the shining of her face

And here, amidst the beautiful seclusion
She sees a sonnet in which she’s dispersed:
Pentameter, in all of its confusion
Iambic, in that she is never first

The forest road’s a type of daily journey
To represent how much has come and gone;
To give herself the power of attorney
To live a new life with each waking dawn

And celebrate the spirit there within
That will not stop for things that might have been


First reading, he had to take stock of himself:

He’s not the steady, industrious type
He’s not the grasping, ambitious type
And cowardice is a flaw —
But smart he was always supposed to be
And so he inferred, as he read, that was He —
He was a Ravenclaw

Then he looked again at the end of the books:

That he would be a loyal to all his friends
But he could still strive for his personal ends
And try to be brave at that —
So maybe the Ravenclaw part of He
Is good, but not all that he can be
For he is more
Than that



My family doesn’t read this blog
Nor do my oldest friends
On pseudo-anonymity
This blog’s main use depends

I want to write on everything
But not hurt anyone
Since no one I know reads my stuff
The thing seems easily done

But secrets, I’m afraid are never
Kept long in the end
And one day, those I hold most dear
Will read these words I’ve penned

Forgive me, then, if anything
I may have said brings pain;
But I needed to say these things
To find myself again

The “I” That Writes These Words

The Letter I

I am the evil I rail against
I am the vanity I see everywhere
I am the target of my own invective
I am the skulking shadow of cowardice
I who approach these words do so in fear
I who fail almost as often as I try
I who wanted always to be a hero
I who cannot change the world’s ways
I can, however, keep trying
I can succeed, albeit occasionally
I can be a hero in never giving up the fight
I can make today a better day than yesterday