Poetry calls everything briefly into itself, falling in line with what I write.
Tears and sorrow inevitably come from between each line without being realized until they cascade down waterfalls of truth and honesty in life’s environment.
Made beautiful by meanings set in frames of poetical music and art.
Acquiescent, finding my intellect in tact, novel items appear on my inner mind’s screens.Watching with delight, enjoying the tastes I hear and see, filling me with words to place on paper.
giving me back my family for moments at a time.Exercising quietly in corners of imagination, quotingwhatever I see in depths of subconsciousness beneath me.Taking everything in stride as I wade waist-high intovisions capturing my attention, and taking me back tothe good old days of youth.
move about – up and across the stage with very little movement.
Resounding ideas bounce around looking for places to resideand mature.Quiet repose is a natural desire, yet we find very littletime to practice it’s restfulness.Alone, most often with ourselves, we find no solace in thisachievement, primarily.Needed is the space we create in our lives if even for justa few minutes.Characteristically standing on the outside, judging from…
