The chilly October air
wound through the valley
past the witch’s lair
and forests filled with ghosts
seeking souls to terrify
whenever someone passes by
on the way to the ancient village
nestled on the valley floor
where strangers disappeared
when they went there to explore
it’s the Season of the Witch
only this
and nothing more!
-30-
do you see what I see?
in every community
there is a strain of idiocy
where lawmakers are free
to impose their ideology
on you and me
it’s kind of scary
how sneaky they can be
because they lack decency
and are shame free
-30-
Hello. I’m the greeter
Some people call me Saint Peter
Every soul that comes through
just wants to know what to do
and if this dimension is heaven
and if am I here for confession
I tell them one and all
no matter how big or small
this is just another step in your evolution
and not the final solution
that their soul’s journey has more
challenges in store
-30-
Arabica
Robusta
Liberica
Excelsa
as the sun rises
caffeine surprises
the sleepy senses
with bold and subtle
scents
rich and intense
some complex
others fruity
and tart
it’s the best way
for your day
to start
-30-
there’s a tale about a young girl
in the early 19th century
in the state of Tennessee
her name was Dory
and she could dance
all day
according to the story
old men would say
watching her whirl
made their day
Dory could dance anywhere
keeping rhythm to any tune
with flowing long hair
whisking through the air
it’s no wonder
the old boys would stare!
To this very day
some people say
Dancing Dory
never went away
-30-
got me a 1934 ford coupe
that doesn’t run anymore
and an early 19th century mower
and a whole lot more
in my junkyard
grass grows over rusted engine blocks
and broken grandfather clocks
got me rolls of razor wires
and hundreds of old tires
and a whole lot more
in my junkyard
got me rows of metal bins
and a bunch of broken manikins
there’s a collection of old signs
and a scarecrow that’s seen hard times
and a whole lot more
in my junkyard
got me the junkyard blues
full of used shoes
yeah…
tell your friends the news
there’s nothing like
the junkyard blues
-30-
there are moments I’d like to live again
like the day when I turned ten
and got a Daniel Boone racoon hat
that made me the envy of the neighborhood
or
the time I fell headlong in love
something I always dreamed of
or
when I made my first game winning goal
in a basketball game I stole
or
seeing my first son born
one early morn
and
the list goes on and on
from memories drawn
by an old man
that still can
recall
them all
-30-
by midday the fog burned away
exposing lush emerald fields of grass
among jagged hills
drawn with an artist’s skills
truth be known
it’s a secret valley
where an old man dwells
alone in peace
among the animals
like the first man
in the sacred garden
known as serenity
-30-
when you reach a CERTAIN age
people either think you’re a sage
or a doddering old fool
who’s not doing well
frankly sometimes
it’s hard to tell
-30-
the revelers watched in disbelief
as Dionysus walked away one day
the satyrs and the Maenads
had come to play
but the god of wine
didn’t have anything to say
while the grapes withered on the vine
Dionysus took his time
stripping away
ritual madness
festivity
and religious ecstasy
until there was nothing else to see
-30-
Journal
Thoughts, Stories, The Poem
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