
silver streams of thought
flow through the verdant contours
of a peaceful mind
–photo by me

silver streams of thought
flow through the verdant contours
of a peaceful mind
–photo by me

luna lures in noble
golden-hearted sunbeams
with her ‘poor me’ act
and pallid complexion
and if they so much as
graze her ashen cheek
with a solitary kiss
she steals their gold
and sends them away
on silver moonbeams

on calm summer nights
the sea of tranquility
lives up to its name
–photo by me

our fears may rear up
at times in our lives and stop
us dead in our tracks
we must look them in the eye
and bravely step over them
–photo by me

summer is the time for
weddings and wildflowers
new pets and new friends
romance and heartbreak
summer is the sound of
screen doors slamming
crickets and fireworks
thunder and pelting hail
summer is full of mischief
and la joie de vivre
but first and foremost
summer is potato salad

we left the trees
with so much to learn
a stick can be sharpened
and branches will burn
cows can be milked
their juices will churn
the Nile will flood
with the Dog Star’s return
and even today
there’s so much to learn
that we’re looking into
the matter at CERN

As I was walking home one night,
A thunderstorm blew in,
But I would not be hurried
Though the rain would soon begin.
Lightning arced across the sky
In splendid disarray,
And for a moment night appeared
As naked as the day,
And though the wind began to drive
The rain against my face,
I challenged Heaven’s fury
And I kept my steady pace.
The sky unleashed a deluge
As the wind began to roar,
And soon the blinding sheets of rain
Had drenched me to the core.
It wasn’t long, the rain let up,
The wind began to die,
And soon a warm and gentle breeze
Began to clear the sky.
The stars came out like shining jewels
Adorning Heaven’s dome —
The storm had passed, and now at last
I ran like hell for home!

whether dragonflies
bring us beauty or terror
depends on our size
–photo by me

maelstroms in our lives
create a space for some to
show their true colors
others get caught up in things
and spiral into the deep
–photo by me

warm summer winds
gently rustle the grass
while whispering secrets
their journeys accrue
and now having passed
over us in the grass
I know that tomorrow
they’ll tell on us too