The fleeting sand
Moving through the timepiece of life
Life is simply
Ephemeral
Taking the time that I have
And using it
With a certain fire to stoke
As the world spins
Around
I find the hope
Of a fleeting glance
Ephemeral
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Tag Archives: Poetry
Serendipity
Is it a pre ordained sequence
Or a type of chemistry
That plays out
When the light
Hits a certain
Curb
In my eyes
That I remember a previous time
The serendipity
In that connection I feel
Close to the
Life that I live
New York City
How long has it been
Since I have smelled the roasting
Chestnuts
In the square
Taking in the lights
As the night approaches
The city I remember
Every ounce of living
On those streets
I miss what I knew
At a time when
City life
Was for
Me and you
North Carolina
A place of such
Rich landscape
The hushing breeze
And grassy fields
Under a sky of silk
Woven feathers
Bright and blooming
As the flowers come through
The mountains
Hold you tight
As they always do
In the state of North Carolina
You feel as fresh
As the morning dew
Petrichor
The new earth
Releases the petrichor’s
A feeling
After the long drought
As the damp
Water falls on the parched
Earth
I smell the must
Of water
Into the
Sky
Amidst
The worry of the
Dry
The set in water
Eases the earth
Back into life
The Liner
The water is full
Of the movement
From west to east
Slowly rolling over
The waves
Coming at the shore
The birds float above the water
In a strong wind
That holds them still in their
Flight
I hold my breathe as the
Cold wind
Comes against my face
As the liner sits
Out in the grips
Of the water
Serene
A life of simplicity
Serene
Impressions
From a day lagging
In it’s full connection
I slow my mind
As the wind dies out over the water
To take in the moment
As birds clatter
And water laps
The serene life
Is what I must return to
Pie
The season is upon us
Where the blankets come out
The echos are a little more
Crisp
With a reprieve from
The summer heat
The light becomes a bit
More orange
Than the summer blue
And the winter will roll in
Right over
Me and you
Butter Rabbits
Dancing lightly over the
Fall
Of flowers and trees
Is the butter rabbits
In drinks and
Other things
Such as loafs of bread
Being carried home in a hurry
The dense sensation
Of sweetened desserts
On the minds of those
Who carry them to
Habitual Stereotype
Is it helpful
The book that you clutch
With every name and type
Already generated bust
So that you know
Exactly what to think
In a habitual stereotype
That locks you into a world
That I both don’t know
And can’t understand
A Cup of Songwriting 