A Fine Suited Man With Terrible Inklings

A fine suited man with terrible inklings Hands on her shoulders; easy to confide Pouring drinks & erasing her sadness Falling by the wayside with time & tide Beauty is merely a natural configuration Each button gone, an uncontrollable urge His intentions told with a silent tongue Embraced & now they lovingly merge

Willfully Getting Lost In The Woods With My Woman

Willfully getting lost in the woods with my womanFar from the hordes of the sick & infectedShutting doors & leaving society behindOnce away, fresh air & peaceful intent detected Outside, I can find the crispness of nature& my pure, unencumbered path to be freeWrapping my soul within Winter’s chillThese unharnessed elements might be the key

Those Words Come To Me In Those Coffee Dreams

  Those words come to me in those coffee dreams A spontaneous marvel of literary delight There’s a difference between manufactured beauty & a real beauty, founded by nature’s authentic right But I can’t explain the nuances with the definition I’m not one to judge such subjective whims Focusing on my own qualms & danglingContinue reading “Those Words Come To Me In Those Coffee Dreams”