Deep Down

Good old long ago
high on the mountains
of sweet misty dreams
with the winds on our side
I wrote our story
in the back of my mind
and Lord, forgive me
I forgot to erase it
day after day
night after night
year after year
we kept coming back
for a little bit more
to the mountain high
and, the story continued
but when the dark moon fell
and the storm came
I dug a hole in my heart
and buried our story deep down
of good old long ago

Sweetly whirling

It’s that time of the year again, time when thoughts of you flutter in circle like a windmill spinning endlessly on a wide empty space out there in the wild. You, because you are floating, sometimes sweetly whirling in that empty grey space in my chestnut brown head. My mind overflowing with unspoken words, silent memories mysteriously rippling… The summer breeze sweeps through the day into autumn, slowing leaving behind trails of unfinished winter moments of blue, brown and yellow. And I thought I heard you laugh amid the sound of silence getting louder as the evening light rushes into the dark of the day… Once again, I’m looking out at the beautiful starlit night and the neon lights shining down below against the moonshine…

River of Dreams

Sweet little moments

dipped in fine honey

and old cherry wine

by the river of dreams

sparkling little summer

soaked In faded shades

of spiraling smoky tales

and echoes of long ago

drenched and dripping

crimson and blue

in the first monsoon rain,

Sweet broken sparkles

flood the river of dreams

now, gushing free

into the unknown