Wandering man

A wandering man,
 carried a can,
any spare change,
 people thought it was strange,
what began with a can,
was the making of the man,

wise man’s eyes

he looked across at the wise man’s eyes, not expecting a look of surprise, however clever, the wise man struggled to keep it together,

mystery of history

The mystery of history, Lessons of time, align, the balance is forever fine,

tide of the sea

I see her walking to me, like the tide of the sea,

miserable thing

he tries to smile, as he waits a while, for the phone to ring, what a miserable thing,

kind words

Kind words, are like a bridge, a solid ridge, across the turbulent waters, that no one taught us,


a crash of light at night, following by a thunder rumble, can make us all feel humble,


one more addition, to the tradition, of writing, and delighting, those that take pleasure, from a simple measure, of words,

fresh song

a fresh song each morning, from every little bird without warning, a new tweet, that you cannot delete, a new song, a place to belong

live by the pen

Live by the Pen

many women and men, live by the pen, as their word is heard, even the absurd, as its effect, is not yet known,