Broken & Reach if you can't grab

I've been slipping lately, for those who care I apologize. Here are "Broken" & "Reach if you can't grab" from my "The Dim Light", I hope you enjoy.

Broken
The solaced snow garnishes the driveway,
but the stricken driveway is bare.
Two cars occupied its circumference
and now only one resides there.

Arguments were the only sign of persistence,
later on though, following inseparable.
Animosity was believed to have cosigned
and their transformation was unmistakable.
For these two lovers whose love was enthused with love,
how could their firm relationship lose relations?
Was it honest to stay together for the kids
when their misery crossed over limitations?

The damages weren’t paltry or punitive,
but they were conducted more severe than serene.
Their first two years felt the mutiny everyday
from the last twelve who would antagonize a scene.
The time they shared with their friends steadily increased,
alibi’s weakened every anniversary.
They could hardly percolate with one another
and when they did, they would submerge in a hurry.
Later on in life when their kids were fully grown,
matured and both of them had been completely schooled.
That’s the time when their paths intentionally changed
and their impotent feelings were nevermore fooled.

The solaced snow garnishes the driveway,
but the stricken driveway is bare.
Two cars occupied its circumference
and now only one resides there.
 

Reach If You Can’t Grab

Apply yourself and nothing can stop you,

you can do anything with assertion.

If the dedication you give is strong,

it will persevere any diversion.

You’re equivalent to anyone else

so let the disoriented chatter.

They only advocate their foolishness

A valid reflection of one varies

with all of the different views it carries.

Be sure to stay true to yourself with truth

you’re a dynamic person, here’s your proof.

Deathly defy the galore which is bland

and finance your own set of credentials.

Get off your lazy rump and make a stand,

I know you can become influential.

You’re not as helpless as you think you are

you have a say on the path that you’ll take.

You’ve overcome these unfair odds thus far

just stay the course and try not to be late.

Why I Seldom Smile

This poem ("tortured artist") is from my "Open Your Mind" collection, I hope you enjoy.


Why I Seldom Smile
Torture befriends suffering
suffering adopts sorrow
sorrow disables my smile,
caring less of a tomorrow.

Agony feeds off my hate
hate doesn’t think so hate I store.
Actions speak volumes, but freedom is heard.
Temptation knocks…I won’t open the door.

Insecure relates to paranoia
paranoia stays in one place;
that place being said is my mind
my mind has a sense, but no face.

The past haunts the ever present
the present questions the future.
The future is very uncertain,
what’s uncertain remains a blur.

Hard to breathe, I fiddle with reason,
is it possible for this much stress?
My stress has stress that accumulates
making me seldom smile, I guess.

The Wolf

This poem is from my "Grey Matters" collection about a fear I have looming forever in the back of my mind. I hope you enjoy.


The Wolf

He howls at the mango moon patrolling each inch
with a gleam on the surface of his hollow eye.
Thoughts of death are projected in his perception
and his defiance alone one couldn’t defy,
but I know he won’t let me by.

I feel his growl startle and shake throughout my bones
with a glaze from the corner of his ghastly eye.
Gloom with a timely doom propels the need to pass,
but the only thing he would let me do is try
and I know he won’t let me by.

His set of fangs are showcased through a surly snarl
with a glare erected off of his vacant eye.
Even the slightest movements I make he mimics
so I must reach my salvation before I die,
but I know he won’t let me by.

The gatekeeper guarding the gateway to judgment
with a gaze punctuating from his ghostly eye.
I must surpass this obstruction by any means,
but his attentive prowess you can’t deny
and I know he won’t let me by.

This wolf is my partition to eternity
with a glance directed off of his haunting eye.
I have yet to earn my sacred divinity
and this obstacle is here for that reason why,
so I know he won’t let me by.

Summer Plans

Does anyone have any big plans set aside for this summer? Or is there something you want to accomplish this summer? My family and I have plans (hopefully) to go to Washington, D.C. and Boston. I've never been to either so I don't know what to expect. How about you?

Birds (In General)

This poem is from my "Open Your Mind" collection. I hope you enjoy.



Birds (In General)

They fly inconceivable of a worry.
High and lenient into the transit sky
soaring and sweeping conspired so gaudy,
but with such an unmistakable poise.

They have a tenacity towards nature,
unmatched only by their own lineage
with different relatives, that’s relative.

They steal some straw and little wooden stems,
making it vital to relax at home
They carefully care and nurture their young.

Their mileage can be so presumptuous.
They sing with a harmonious volume,
an exquisite gift, free to the whole world.

Many travel in precise precision,
unaware of the predators below.
Mainly felines looking for a quick treat.

We witness aerial exhibitions.
Chirping to one another with leisure,
televised through windows or open views.

For such petite knowledge they do reason
and then proceed to suitable weather.
They deserve more prestige then they’ve received
They fly inconceivable of a worry.

Happy Birthday Diane Estrella!!!

Happy Birthday Cuz, I hope all is well with you and yours.

Intensity's Anticipation's

This poem is from my "The Dim Light" collection, I hope you enjoy it.

Intensity’s Anticipation’s

Indiscreet fascinations, banish me below
lingering underneath where the muzzled soil lay.
Where inside deep corridors, condensation grow,
I remember all the offensive words you say.

Treat others with the same respect that you covet
otherwise, your gambit is an instilled gamble.
The tyranny inflicted will bring side-effects
when you’re the only one besieging the scandal.

With everything gone and nothing but still is left,
what can I do, what can we do…what can I do?
I’ve known all along you’re the thief that favors theft,
my dismay comes with the acknowledgment of you.

Throw your hate-filled trident at what is established
such a move moves closer to your apprehension.
My breaking point confines have entertained enough
for my admission into that glum dimension!

Greatest Accomplishment

This one is tricky (not because I have so many) but because I would never want to short change/disrespect anyone. So taking that into careful consideration I will leave out the obvious: getting married, having two beautiful boys, getting published... Being a born again Christian is a glorious gift (the best one can receive in my eyes), but now looking at what I just wrote in the previous sentence everything I have or had is a gift too. So to make things less confusing for everyone (myself included) I'll go with growing up/maturing and of course my regret with that is I didn't do it sooner. Now, how about you?

Animality

This poem is from my "Gray Matter's " collection, please remember most of my poems and all from "Gray Matter's" are not edited...I am terrible with punctuation and the like, but I hope you enjoy.

Animality

Emphasized is an addictive society
unvarnished in dismantling anonymity
untarnished are the tendencies of tyranny
that plague the existence of fragile harmony.
Glory is eternally linked inside sorrow
a fate that awaits us is waiting tomorrow.
The fertile ground of exhausting simplicities
is located beside all our deficiencies.
We’re bound to account for the amount of despair
when we withhold the compassion to share our care.
Are we able to put our differences aside
long enough to help each other try and survive?

Each one of us possesses a will and a way
let the way be towards peace and the will start today.

Diverse variations of crude narrations
and lewd behavior consumes through generations.
Breeding hate is passed on and embedded within
a ferocity simmering under our skin.
Some accusations are as good as convictions
and profound allegations question innocence.
The trail of death looms large in travails of carnage
with casualties abound on the bridge of courage.
We’re bound to account for the amount of despair
when we withhold the compassion to share our care.
Are we able to put our differences aside
long enough to help each other try and survive?

Each one of us possesses a will and a way
let the way be towards peace and the will start today.

Greatest Flaw?

If you could change one serious flaw (we all have them, right?) what would your's be? Mine would be my impatience, over the last few years I feel like I've regressed a bit. Trust me I have many, but my impatience is (in my eyes, some people might disagree) my greatest flaw. How about you?

Hiatus! no more & B.C.

Well, I am back (if that's a good thing or not?) and with my return I unveil from my "The Dim Light" collection "B.C." For those who read my poetry you know sometimes I'm "out there", but this one is waaaay "out there". With this poem...I wouldn't have it any other way. I hope you enjoy, God bless.

B.C.

Seven restless nights
 

Night I

I get scared and nervous at night because

I don’t feel that I deserve to live through

another day. Where can a man rest when

there’s no place where he can hide? Why am I

scared to live and scared of life…petrified?

Each day my grip on life gets looser and

my alibi’s can provide alibis.

With only greedy incentives, I use

life, I’m a user and I fear that I’ll

be taken in my sleep or worse…right now!

Night II

A heathen inside a dark outer shell trapped within,
I can’t break free, so lonely.
Riding perils of infamy my brood
harks and hatches Corvus, constituting
a loyal companionship. We’re both deemed
annoying when we crow…nuisances we
are, as I contemplate living in a
tiny burrow underneath the world of
debate, hate, skeptical thoughts and self-made
beliefs. My solitude is convicting.

Night III

Paranoia or intuition? All

my vagrant memories have derived from
dreaded occurrences, reminding me
and showing me on a short play list. There’s
no capable way to extinguish the
steady and ever ready circular
motions of gray. Spite is shadowed in spite-
filled light carrying a vision it has
salvaged from one of my past failures. A
grave mistake leaves many tribulations.


Night IV


Should someone be afraid to go to sleep;
watching the minutes and hours fade as you
fall deeper from deep? Every night I think
death will indict the fraud and I’m worried
If I awake, everyday was wasted
without a worthy sake. I grow narrow
and complacent stranded in seclusion.
Reprimanding arrows of explicit
words cynics can elicit. Is it a
guilty conscience or multiple warnings?


Night V

My notoriety has lied to me
so sleeps necessity means less to me.
It feels like there’s no air in here to breathe,
but these words deceive…staying awake, is
that my relief? If this darkness swallows
me hole, would anybody know? Solace
dotes on the malaise of slow. The clamor
assaults my grammar and it’s disruptive
flow. The criticism is crisp as are
my vexed and interwoven emotions.


Night VI


My life’s a worthless circus maintained by
bombarding visions of my frightening
inabilities to excel, succeed,
propel and not depend or need. If you
look how you feel, then I’m a heel with a
damaged seal. When I’m awake I have mild
control over myself, when I’m not, I’m
a lonely soul with no such control. I
fear the darkness and the way it consumes.
It’s apparent that I’m incoherent.


Night VII

I can hardly breathe, my heart feels like it
skips a beat and annuls the will to live.
The paranoia is keeping me up
entangled and intertwined inside my
mind…restless. At this hour I frolic with
the dead and excavate all the tired words
I’ve misled. Possessed uncontrollably
possessed enclosed even with closed ears in
protest. An unstoppable assailant
defiling my thoughts precise and reckless.

Day 1


Before the Lord took control of my life
I was a lost soul rummaging around.
Praise goes to thy savior who praises us
and when I go to sleep, I’m safe and sound.

Don’t be conquered by evil,
but conquer evil with good.

I no longer fear closing my eyelids
and being uneasy in bed at night.
God is in me now stronger than ever,
his love’s in my heart and I’m in his light.

Who do you admire the most?

Besides the most obvious answer here...God, who do you really admire and value the most in your life? Mine is a easy one, my dad. I respect, revere, admire and appreciate everything about him. He is a true saint, how about you?

POEtry & The Hate You Breed

To make up for last week (I am slipping) here are two poems for this week. "POEtry" (yes I intended it to be spelled like that) & "The Hate You Breed". Po is from my "The Dim Light" collection while The... is from my "Open Your Mind" collection. I scattered several things associated with Mr. Poe, can you pick them all out? I hope you enjoy.

POEtry

He scored a song

to sing along,

he penned Tamerlane to lead.

With such dismay

despair would stay;
he was born a different breed.

He wrote a hymn

that spoke within,
he defined a way to lead.

Blessed with a view

chastised by few,

he gave birth to a new breed.

He told a tale

through a black veil,

he converged visions to lead.

The pit held fate

the bells grew rate,

he molded a revamped breed.

He pitched a verse

the gift, the curse,

he alone sustained a lead.

The dark cocoon

death came too soon,

but his Raven stayed to breed.

The Hate You Breed
Keep breeding the hate
children grow reflected by distortion.
Keep breeding the hate
feelings will get blown out of proportion.
Keep breeding the hate
where does belittling get anyone?
Keep breeding the hate
it deteriorates their thoughts so young.
Keep breeding the hate
and self-prosecute when they misbehave.
Keep breeding the hate
besides torment what have you really gave?
Keep breeding the hate
through time all will absorb a reaction.
Keep breeding the hate
the cycle begins with each contraction.
Keep breeding the hate
your ruthless words can paralyze their minds.
Keep breeding the hate
years of such abuse is the tie that binds.
Keep breeding the hate
for some of you it’s not too late to choose.
Stop breeding the hate
because in the end all of us will lose.

Memory

This poem is from my "Gray Matters" collection, I hope you enjoy.

Memory

Remember us, remember me

remember all our memories.

Remember when you said I do

remember me, remember you.

Remember the first time we met

remember, so you won’t forget.

Remember back to our first date

remember when we didn’t hate.

Remember all our times of bliss

remember our very first kiss.

Remember all the times of good

remember them please, if you could.

Remember us, remember me

remember all our memories.

Remember when you said I do

remember me, remember you.

Remember the changes we’ve made

remember them, so they don’t fade.

Remember all the laughs we shared

remember when we both once cared.

Remember when our love was strong

remember when we got along.

Remember the birth of our son

remember when we both were one.

Remember us, remember me

remember all our memories.

Remember when you said I do

remember me, remember you.

What would you ask God?

If you had the opportunity to ask God one question and get an instant answer (say, a loud voice telling you the answer) what would you ask? My question: Do I have a room awaiting me (and hopefully my loved ones) in your mansion? How about you?

Hinder

This poem is from my "The Dim Light" collection, I hope you enjoy.

Hinder

Only a beacon of light infiltrates

the manor in its own manner.

Scraps of a seized day are spread motionless,

they’re only faded reminders.

A gust of wind blindsides the candlestick

that carried a glimmer of hope.

Strung along as depleted mementos

of a long awaited daydream.

A ruse to abuse

with envious hues.

And gestures made to insure

that he remained insecure.

He gazed to the sky

with a question why.

It’s rude to exclude,

it changes the mood

and the time was brief that passed.

Entranced and enticed

whom felt sacrificed,

grief was the guilt that amassed.

It’s strange to follow

a heart so hollow.

He yearned a pit and dug it

crawled in deep, but didn’t fit.

He gazed to the sky

with a question why.

Only a beacon of light instigates

the manor in its own clamor.

Scraps of a seized day are spread from duress,

they’re only hated reminders.

A gust of wind blindsides a strange edict

that carries a glimmer to cope.

Strung along as depleted highs and lows

of a once inflated daydream.

Circular Firing Squad

This poem is one of several about my anger (don’t worry I contain it, well try my best to) it's from my "Gray Matters" collection. I hope you enjoy.

Circular Firing Squad

Deep underneath this flesh and bones dwells a vulture

Quite famished, looking to feed and willing to maim.

Ready to harm lies this wild, rampant animal

Mildly insane and unattainable to tame.

The passive years have harshly weakened the restraints,

But the hunger pains remain and have grown stronger.

Fighting the temptation consumes all of my strength

And I fear it won’t stay contained for much longer.

This anger burns fiercely

Boiling blood, flowing rush.

Perspiring profusely

Face flush with angered blush.

Prepared and scouring for any outlet, restless

Stalking with intentions to be a travesty.

A constant mountain mounting harder to control

One cannot foresee this monstrous catastrophe.

Anticipating the exact moment to flee

Don’t wake this inner beast to take what’s forsaken.

I don’t want to lose my sense of identity

This beast will feast on the weak once it’s awakened.

This anger burns fiercely

Boiling blood, flowing rush.

Perspiring profusely

Face flush with angered blush.

The darkness is slowly seeping out of my skin

All I’m able to do is keep my faith in God.

Acting on these impulses is the first downfall

Unleashed anger is a circular firing squad.

Were there books left out of the Bible?

Do you believe there were (or still are lying around somewhere) more books initially written, but never included in the Bible? I watched a show on the History Channel about this some time ago and was intrigued to learn (maybe true, maybe false) that there were several books left out including one by...Judas! I do believe there are (or were) more books intended to be included, but never made it in. The reasoning behind why they were not...an even better question. So what's your take?

Carpe Diem

No question this week I know, I know. This poem is from my "The Dim Light" collection...I hope it inspires, enjoy. 

Carpe Diem

Plenty of hypocrisy

which inflates so blatantly.

Oh what a sight it would be,

living through hypocrisy.

Enticing the quarters of ridicule

to transpire its whimsy attire.

Consummate the strength to end its long rule,

but acquire the ways to inspire.

Harbor these intimate nights

which extend tranquil insights.

Oh to see those few delights,

all the methodical nights.

Surge the frontier of your fortune

and sternly respond, but use empathy.
Embody yourself changed within

because frees comprised an anomaly.

Trounce on what image defies

a positive mind denies.

Oh that sight to see arise,

the oath dignity defies.

Acquainted Accomplice

This poem is an ode to my partner in crime...my pen and is from my "Gray Matters" collection, I hope you enjoy.

Acquainted Accomplice

My bleeding dagger staining a black trail

soothing therapy away from worry

my pen is my friend there for modest me,

together we’ll rise together we’ll fail.

My pen endures all my weird creations

my weapon of choice I choose to disperse

and quench my thirst for lyrical outbursts,

writing’s my addiction and medication.

My pen never leaves my side or complains

my poisonous weapon used to offend

and at times my pen is my only friend,

a comrade companioning my campaigns.

Pouring portions of myself through my pen

deep into the deepest burrows below

my soul is cleansed long ago of sorrow,

unlocking emotions never spoken.

I write with the ink of my blood.

Favorite Sport

This is kind of biased for me because I am in a bowling league and have been the last 2 years (plus 10 when I was younger). When I was young my favorite sport was probably a toss up between Baseball, Basketball and Football, but when you're actually in a league in changes your prospective. I love bowling (even though it gets frustrating at times) my team bowls on Monday nights and our team name (wait for it)..."University of Lebowski" a tribute to one of my favorite movies and movie characters of all time. How about you?

Sum It Up

This poem is from my "Open Your Mind" collection and is the first, the very first poem I wrote when I buckled down and took writing poetry very seriously. "Sum It Up" is very self explanatory and I still remember to the day when I wrote it. I was working with my dad (10 years ago give or take a year) at an on-site job, it felt like it just spilled out of me and ever since that day I have an easier time writing at work (sporadically). I hope you enjoy, but remember this was a long time ago and I was without faith.

Sum It Up
Sheltered emotion, fragile soul
Timid potion, elaborate goal
Grasping knowledge, searching mind
Unselfish pledge, combustibly kind
Innocent gaze, pessimistic trust
Tensions procrastinate, active stress
Suicide debate, appreciate caress
Haunting illusions, crocodile smile
Everyday confusions, conscience on trial
Devoted loyalty, constantly irate
Non-deserving royalty, looks penetrate
Born considerate, dying inside
Survival illiterate, nowhere to hide…

Favorite Movie?

Favorite movie…I don’t think I have a sole favorite movie, more like movies. In no specific order I would say (besides the “R” rating for most of these) “Finding Forrester” (Sean Connery, Rob Brown), “The Big Lebowski” (Jeff Bridges, John Goodman), “Wedding Crashers” (Vince Vaughn, Owen Wilson), “The Hangover” (Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms) and probably the new Batman’s (Christian Bale, Michael Caine). I don’t agree with the a lot of the swearing or violence in most of these movies, but they are just “movies” to me anyway. So, how about you?

Happy Birthday Gina King!!!

Happy Birthday (the 23rd) to my sister Gina King, I hope it was a great day for you.

Sanctuary

This poem is dear to me (more than others). I know I should write more about God, but at times I feel like whatever I do write will never be able to justify what He really means to me (or anyone else for that matter). "Sanctuary" is from my Gray Matters collection, I hope you enjoy it. And Karen you're right about the perspire and saliva lines.

Sanctuary

A stolid android devoid of a soul

seeking refuge from this common disease.

Seizing scraps of hope with vapid control

piece by piece pierced and fleeced, peace father please.

The rigors of life sometimes overwhelm

and stress is too resilient to outrun.

Taking residency in Satan’s realm

temptation leads us away from the Son.

Will you will you be my sanctuary

and fill up the barren wasteland within?

Will you will you be my sanctuary?

I ask, but yet I continue to sin.

I’ve been a spiritual pariah

for far too long I’ve trespassed in protest.

I pray and plead, forgive me Messiah!

Grant me shelter from eternal unrest.

Kept preserved in an internal standstill

thirsting asylum under the Lords grace.

Emptiness consists as a vast landfill

entrenched and traced to a despondent place.

Will you will you be my sanctuary

and fill up the barren wasteland within?

Will you will you be my sanctuary?

I ask, but yet I continue to sin.

Cleanse me from these embedded shards of hate

life’s ills can manifest beside sorrow.

Counter balance the wicked and vile weight

and save my foul soul from the woe below.

Inside the haven of the Lord’s favor

loving kindness is the reprieved decree.

To be one with the Savior I’d savor

take all my flaws and wash me in mercy.

Will you will you be my sanctuary

and fill up the barren wasteland within?

Will you will you be my sanctuary?

I ask, but yet I continue to sin.

And all this time I’ve been blindly inane

God is the answer to all our questions.

When there’s nothing else left, He will remain

to forgive us for all our transgressions.

Will you will you be my sanctuary

and fill up the barren wasteland within?

Will you will you be my sanctuary?

I ask, but yet I continue to sin.

Will you will you be my sanctuary?

Will you will you be?

Happy Birthday Brandy Pasquale!

I’m back from my bout with the flu (still not 100%) and let me tell you, (as many of you probably know) the flu sucks! I felt like rolling into a ball and tucking myself away until the coast was clear (or I felt better). I honestly felt like a helpless boy. I missed Wednesday’s new poem last week so to make up for it I attached it here. “Just Looking Out A Window” is from my Open Your Mind collection of poems (a golden oldie). And as you read from the title yes, it’s my wife’s birthday today so as a special treat I included one of the several poems I’ve written to her. This one is called “Unconditional” from The Dim Light collection, enjoy.

Just Looking Out a Window
Just looking out a window.
Mellow blissfulness erupts off the glass,
distinct colored tints act incognito
to their ideally placed surroundings.
This sight is a prominent premium,
getting tipsy off natural beauty.
All if any, problems seem to dissolve.
From this occurrence, I feel confident.

Just looking out a window.
Each view resembles a kaleidoscope,
a dispersed colorful spectrum display.
My body’s standing still as is the world
perceived to be boundless for the moment.
Who knows the proposed course of this movement?
Nature’s gesture might be temporary
but overall, it’s a heartfelt privilege.

Just looking out a window.

Unconditional
When I first laid my eyes upon your face
the world stopped and was indeed unaware.
That a true love had just grazed the surface
and together we would become a pair.
I burn for your love and that flame makes fire
never have I nor would I ever cheat.
My devotion for you will not perspire;
I control the saliva I secrete.
We do enjoy each other’s company,
but we shouldn’t take for granted the time.
I’m overjoyed when you accompany
all the obstacles we decide to climb.

You’re my relief and I love you so much,
we’ll rise above adversity as one.
As we express a passionate embrace,
I revolve around you, you light the sun.
I beckon you to stay with me tonight
because I get lonely here without you.
Please, my love for you I want to recite
together, there’s nothing we can’t get through.
You insatiably mean so much to me,
how can I find the right ways to explain?
I’d die providing that you would live free
and give up everything to bare my name.

My arms are the bridge you travel across
making sure all of your journeys are safe.
I’ll hold until my foundation crumbles
or until you’ve lost in me all your faith.
Because you can count on me to be there
through the salvages of the thick and thin.
Just be sure to let me know when and where
so if that day comes, my quest can begin.
You’re my stable rock that keeps me grounded,

you stand out from an individual.
With your feel, my sharp edges are rounded;

my love for you is unconditional.

Favorite Writer/Poet/Philosopher

Who is the one writer/poet/philosopher you enjoy reading the most? Obviously there's favorites like Shakespeare, Twain, Tolstoy, Dickens, King, Plato, Hemingway on the majority of people's lists. Mine is Edgar Allen Poe. How about you?

Tranquil

This poem is from my "The Dim Light" collection and it certainly was not tranquil to write. But I was happy with it when I was done (which doesn't happen a lot). I hope you enjoy!

Tranquil

The steady rain falls downward from the cumulus
saturating everything, the rain drops persist.
Each make there own impact, but stay anonymous.

The wide-open spaces expose no such resist
only cover contests its free fall plummeting.

But their vertical stampede show they do exist.

An acid wash you’ll still feel while maneuvering,
feeling wet with the coldness creates a quiver
and lightning purges the sky which is thundering.

Patience alone won’t stop an adjourning river.
Deserving Earth gets itself a refreshing drink
as a serene cloudburst delivers a shiver.

Through time the hate-filled boats will eventually sink.

Blissfully soothing are the showers of April,

they broaden and cultivate instances to think.

Each splash is important as the last will fulfill.

Bits of water scatter and spray in succession

so much commotion, yet everything else is still.

Puddles of precipitation leave impressions

as aqua pellets burst with clatter of landing.

To drench and soak anything is their intention.

In this world where it seems life is too demanding,

the atmosphere’s condensed medley feels so tranquil.

And now I see with a better understanding.

Happy belated birthday Sherry LeGarda!!!

This goes out to one of my best friend's daughter...Sherry LeGarda. Happy belated birthday and I am still waiting for you to become a "follower". God bless.

Dream Job

What would you consider to be your dream job? What is the one job/thing you love doing more than anything else in the world? Obviously mine would be writing for a living whether it'd be for children or for readers of poetry. How about you?