He belted his little heart out

Same time every day

It lasted for hours and hours

But still…

She  does not come.

I shouted out to the little bird

“Why not perch on another tree?”

“I was calling out to you…”

the little bird replied,

“To keep that smile on your face.”

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Dewy lotuses, 
grow in the dark -
creating an entangling —
Flower of Life …

nature and everything — we know — has its roots
on the grounds of truth
indeed…
every family tree,
needs...
a tree house.

Habitats for Humanity  

There is a lone wolf
which is black,
and blue,
in the eyes :
whom sees the world differently
depending on —
whether or not you’re 
— on his or her good or...

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I tried to wait,
But new flowers grow where the old ones die,
I didn’t want to move on,
But the sun involuntarily started to shine,
I lost myself searching for you,
But the fire eventually went out,
The dark smoke turned into wind,
I no longer needed to dwell on my feelings within,
New flowers grow where the old ones die,
Even if the soil needs to cry
Something beautiful can still arise

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Mother nature painted you by hand

Blue swirls traced along your land

A wonderous heaven lost to nature

May you still yet hopefully have a future?

You sway innocently in a dead void

Whille your cost of living is toiled

The aliens still infect you

Spewing out the innocence that held you

You are a blue green marble

A child's tale, a cherished fable

But waiting ...

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And venturing out
as an artisan model aircrafts
... enthusiast
is a larger than life recreation
to somebody
who
fell in love
with
Amelia Earhart's
figure 8

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generational forefathers
bore thine
fruits of their labor,

to an heiress

Oh, the burden
given to this poor mistook child.

the Fall of man—after death
40 days and 40 nights,
If we were to predate the Gregorian calendar
… spring too,
life—before Christ—dark
and light archangels
would earn their halos
from Helios through
sun worship,
during the 7 Days of Creation,
summer was mad...

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Astronauts were packing it in.

​​​​​Wrapping up a long mission

when the ships sensors had a vision.
Beyond the hill of ice.
On a planet deemed to have no life.
A sign of life before them
beyond the hill were penguins.
Sliding down the peak
with Popsicles in their beaks.
A bundle over polar bears
sat watching in folding chairs
on the planet of Coldairus.

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Tread gently beneath the fragile fanlight

With its curving carved ribs

framing rippling glass

Glance up to the Venetian arch with its Canaletto morning sky

And the uncoiled mahogany staircase

Treads echoing to the creak and clatter of murmurous ghosts

Peel the plaster skin from the wall

Withies within, woven by dead fingers

Stiff reeds droop with the stilled pro...

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