The Garden of my Dreams

The Garden of My Dreams

The garden of my dreams
is tilled and fertile
full of jasmine and crepe myrtle.
The plants are pushing
down their roots
through rocky soil...
straight to the mineral.

Sun will come and sun will go
as the garden of my dreams
does ebb and flow.

Thoughts, they grow and they take root
until they become deliberate.

In the garden of dreams...

I form and I play
with poems and stories
come what may
until a tree stands strong and tall
bearing fruit for one and all.

The garden of my dreams
is verdant, green-
sweet like honey,
and pure like cream.

So come and sit a spell
down here
where our minds can meet
and shed a tear
or fabricate
a lofty plan
the highest form
of being human.

My garden grows, as your does too--
to sustain and nourish
both me and you.

So sit a spell
plunk your feet down
in the lush green growth
of garden ground,
where the grapes of promise
draw from soil of thought
and wondrous things
are formed and wrought.

A Man and the Wife of His Youth

A Man and the Wife of His Youth

The old man

Scratched his head

How could things have gotten this far?

As she lies so pale and lifeless in the bed

His wife of many years

Once a flower, fair

Her frail hand held so still, in his

And on his face, a single tear

Time is drawing them

To a place where one will go

And when he lays his body down

This place, then both will know.

For now, he dreams of yesteryear

And sees a dreamy glow

Upon her bent and snow white head

As he remembers

the thing

that they did know.

Ode to A Delightful Wild Flower Patch

Ode to A Wild Flower Patch


Tiny purple patch
the smallest of wild flower
Tiny violet patch
quaking under the wind's power
Tiny blooming bunch
you rise to greet the day
Tiny cornflower stars of blue
you grace the first of May.

Luscious, precious petal-
Four and a tiny face
Too small to gather in a bunch
The mountain wood your vase.

Tiny violet bloom
Alone up on the hill
Pressed now firmly in my heart
to remember you-I will.