Dig Deep

My eyes are open but I do not see,
details slip and slide and elude me,
outer appearance is not important,
skin deep beauty is irrelevant.

I can tell you about a person’s mood,
and if his intent is bad or good,
I know if he’s willing to go great lengths,
I am aware of his foibles and strengths.

What is inside excites and intrigues me,
remove the wrapping paper to see,
is he a person to treasure and keep,
or perhaps I’ve uncovered a creep.

Discerning what’s true and fake takes its toll,
but eyes do indeed reflect the soul,
penetrate his eyes to his very core,
you will find what you are looking for.

Quote to ponder

I find it fascinating that most people plan their vacation with better care than they do their lives. Perhaps that is because escape is easier than change.
- Jim Rohn

Feeling Bereft

Commotion surrounds her life,
she is wilting from the strife,
distraction, noise fills the air,
she kicks and rears like a mare.

Wild eyes shift from right to left,
revealing feeling bereft,
she lunges forward and darts,
fleeing from racket, she parts.

Solitude envelops all,
tension eases and she falls,
soft grass welcomes and comforts,
her fingers caress soft dirt.

Thinking opens to clarity,
unfolding to hilarity,
most try to escape their thoughts,
but her thoughts are what she sought.

Quote to ponder

The way to gain a good reputation, is to endeavor to be what you desire to appear. - Socrates

Mad Men

Sitting at the heart throb of power,
refusing to relent or cower,
are the mad men in the universe,
spreading their warped ways like a curse.

The span of their reach cast dark shadows,
flowers wither and die in meadows.
All laws are changed to benefit them;
the masses hide money in coat hems.

Trust has vanished in this lawless land,
possessions are buried in the sand.
Chilling cries for help fall on deaf ears,
no one speaks of what they see or hear.

Fear is embedded deep in the soul,
an abundance of worries take their toll.
Black clouds of despair hover above;
hearts feel dead, there is no room for love.

Ocean

When I step in, you embrace me,
tender lapping waves push and pull,
lazily I float and feel free,
happiness seeps in until full.

You send friendly fish to amuse,
their splendid colors attract me,
teasingly chasing, they accuse,
I've invaded their privacy.

You adorn the shoreline with shells,
I collect spectacular ones,
each has its own story to tell,
caressing all, I know I’ve won.

You send a soothing breeze my way,
it tosses my hair in the air,
lightly dancing, it wants to play,
joking that we make a good pair.

You sing a song of contentment,
the lulling sound puts me to sleep,
shoving away all resentment,
I slip into a slumber so deep.

My eyes open to a painting,
its beauty splashed across the sky,
brilliant colors rearranging,
your friend, the sun, has said good-bye.

Shadows appear to end the day,
and it is time for me to go,
we exchange smiles before I say,
loving you keeps away all woes.

Baby Blue Jay

Abandoning the nest
seemed a mighty test;
my wings were not strong,
everything appeared wrong.

I peered over the edge
then gazed at the ledge
where my mother perched
as her intent eyes searched.

Suddenly she swooped,
pecked the ground then looped
around me giving food
that tasted, oh, so good.

I sighed in relief;
felt proud in my belief;
my mother was the best
and I could stay and rest.

Living Each Moment

The warmth of the sun warms my back,
as my mind wanders and looks back,
but there's nothing there to dwell on,
good and bad memories are gone.

The warmth of the sun warms my back,
as I realize that I don't lack,
my own personal history,
my past isn't a mystery.

It's not repressed causing me pain;
I purport that I am still sane.
It's simple, I released my past
and everyday life is a blast.

It was work to send it away;
it had a voice with lots to say.
I struggled, fought, to let it go;
now I'm free from unwanted woes.

The warmth of the sun warms my back
as I put future in a sack.
The present is all I have got,
and it was the one I forgot.

The warmth of the sun warms my back,
embracing the moment, I pack
for my life 's journey in the now,
my new found spirit tells me how.

Joy

It gives me joy to make you cry,
it sounds strange but I’ll tell you why.
My words send your spirit soaring,
from you happiness is pouring.

Elatedly I work some more,
seeking laughter that makes you roar.
For there is no greater reward,
which a writer could surely hoard.

It gives me joy to see those tears,
reading my work makes you so dear.
A writer seeks an audience,
appreciation lends credence.

So write I must and write I will,
typing from dusk to dawn until,
I can elicit no more tears,
and tears and laughter turn to jeers.

Lyrics: God Created a Masterpiece

God created a masterpiece and it's you
It's reflected in all you do
I'm so happy to be with you

God created a masterpiece and it's you
Each moment is precious and new
I'm so lucky to be with you

Your heart's a waterfall of love
And pure as the whitest dove
You were sent to me from above
I know you were sent to me from above

Your smile is brighter than the sun
Dispersing warmth to everyone
Around you life is always fun
I relish that I am the one
for you...

Chorus:
I thank God on bended knee
That you were sent to me
It's enough for me to be
By your side forevermore

I treasure all that we share
I want you to know I care
Let's walk together if we dare
What we share is extremely rare

Let's walk through life hand in hand
Leaving our footprints in the sand
We will travel across the land
and entwine our journeys in dreamland

Chorus:
I thank God on bended knee
That you were sent to me
It's enough for me to be
By your side forevermore

God created a masterpiece and it's you
It's reflected in all you do
It's so wonderful to be with you

God created a masterpiece and it's you
Each moment is precious and new
I want to spend my life with you

Joy from the Soul

Today I sat down with a blank page in front of me as I often do. Initially nothing came to me. Then I wrote Joy from the Soul. I was putting my notebook away when I had another idea which led to the lyrics God Created a Masterpiece.

I sit and wait for inspiration,
my masterpiece, my creation.
The page is blank, reflecting my mind,
not a single idea can I find.

Pen in hand and ready for action;
pen on paper ready for motion;
nothing comes, no creative juices,
there is no contact with my muses.

I accept there's no masterpiece now;
tomorrow I'll try once more I vow,
to combine words into something fun,
or write a song as warm as the sun.

And, if I don't, I will recover,
since my dreams push me to discover,
the final product isn't the goal,
it's writing that brings joy from the soul.

A Circus of Errors

A circus of errors
keeps tumbling from the air,
inconsequential ones,
harmless, amusing, fun.

Others are elephants,
huge, can’t fit in the tent;
they need to be addressed,
worked out and laid to rest.

A circus of errors
keeps tumbling from the air;
jugglers can toss them high;
send them across the sky.

Flash lion tamers' whips
to ward off those that rip,
through hearts destroying all,
a deadly cliff-dive fall.

The circus of errors
has vanished from the air;
everything’s been put right,
only brightness in sight.

Burned Out

Inspiration eludes me,
burned out, I do not feel free;
too irritable, frowning,
caught in a whirlpool, drowning.

Life is nothing but demands,
I don’t want to hear commands;
caught on a high speed treadmill,
life’s a blur, nothing is real.

Desperation overcomes,
overwhelmed, all limbs are numb;
exhausted, routine controls,
like a ball, if pushed, it rolls.

My mind screams, my body moans,
I work to pay off the loans;
is this all there is to life –
pain, suffering, and more strife?

Cowboy

It’s all in the song,
how often he longs,
for bright starry nights,
to provide the light.

Moving on horseback,
few clothes in a sack,
he crosses prairies,
he never marries.

He was born a cowboy,
handguns were his toys,
horses were his friends,
childhood to the end.

Fun is riding bulls,
roping calves to pull,
always on the move,
with nothing to prove.

A guitar in hand,
he lives off the land,
building a campfire,
mending a wire.

Roughness is his name,
gentle when calf’s lame,
resisting limits,
free as time permits.

Do you hear him sing?
Loud melodies ring,
downing a few beers,
never knowing fear.