All spun in gold?
For our hearts
It’s a caress,
As for Love,
It says it best.
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Writing sooths the wounded heart,
You feel lost,Instead of grass,Walking sadly, amongst the weeds.
Things are not what they seem,
A Surrealistic Dream,Come true.These are wild Times,Not worth too many dimes,Riddles playing Fiddles,Sanity Screams,Irresponsibility Beams,Society,Comes loose at the Seams!‘Read All About It’Headline News,‘The Plate ran away with the Spoon’,Or was it the Fork?Did the Cow really jump over the Moon?If she did, then we know,The Moon is made of Swiss cheese,Bon Appetit!Things are not what…
Into the music,
Mysterious sensations,Words that can’t be said,Enjoying every moment,Musically wed.
Simply said, Deeply felt,
All the InnocentsThat so sadly lost their lives,On that fatal day,Fellow Americans and Others too,We shall always honor and remember,All of you.
Poor poets,
Looking for answers,And finding none,A poet’s workIs never done.
Species,
From the worm to the mammoth,The species have traveled,From ameba, to us,The most mysteriousAnd the one,That most makes, a fuss.ooooooooolast dancellO