They want to burn all the books
& so I’ll sift through the ashes
To reignite the magic
Knowledge amongst the backlashes
They Want To Burn All The Books
magic
I’m Seeking A Truth
I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words
My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move
Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform
My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove
I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul
There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes
Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains
Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope
The Magic Of The Holidays Still Gets To Me
The magic of the Holidays still gets to me
You’ll find me wiping my tears with a sleeve
I’m not ashamed to outwardly proclaim it
I still believe
These days I walk the streets with childlike innocence
Searching for anything with the Christmas spirit
But I find most of the world has become Scrooge
A sad truth & many of you don’t wanna hear it
But I know we can be better than this
All of us can always return back here
To the love & magic of the Holidays
Let me be the first to pour you a cup of cheer
Wanting To Dance Naked
Wanting to dance naked
Instinctively wanting to go down
Perfection within moonlight
Wearing her like a crown
Hearing her voice serenade
She’s what dreams are made of
Drifting off to Neverland
Knowing how Southern girls love
You Cannot Pick Your Thoughts
You cannot pick your thoughts
The conscious can’t be steered
Without love, hope and magic
The future will be as dark as you feared
A Small Smile
A small smile
Like she always knows
More beautiful
Than any summer rose
Don’t rush me, woman
I’m making sure you’re real
The invigorating magic
Of the slow reveal
There’s Magic In Knowing The Soul
There’s magic in knowing the soul
you cannot live without
Is more precious than anything in front of you
The inability to cease from a scream or shout
The seas have parted
Allowing visions to reach us within earshot
You can only see the beauty of a cherished soul
Neither are we perfect, but we’re all we’ve got
Translucence when we slumber
Taken away to the shores of our dreams
The impossible comfort of paradise
Allowing for beliefs to be more than they seem
Sitting At The Windowsill
Sitting at the windowsill
Fingers stained by my ink
Face red & tranquilly humbled
Cold & tumbled; too frozen to think
The nights are dropping temps
I’ll need to do everything to keep warm
Though I’m unwrapping each layer
Eagerly embracing your gracious form
Life is a fine chance to love you
Trading kisses as I adjust your weary crown
Telling stories of our younger days
& the magic that happened in a little Arizona town
Image by Lou Blazquez from Pixabay
Be Careful When You’re Out In The Woods
Be careful when you’re out in the woods
Dancing under the fairies & good folk
Between the dreams & murky mists
Listening to every single word we spoke
There are no secrets when you’re here
You become one with the falling leaves
Magic & Pixie Dust in the air
Before you ever see, you must first believe
I’m So Happy, I’ll Dance You A Jig
I’m so happy, I’ll dance you a jig
With my eyes open, these dreams so big
Still living this life with childhood eyes
Truth always revealed as the tears dried
Sailing ships, battered by wind & storm
Ignoring reason, logic & the accepted norm
Life gets hectic, it’s often a terrible mess
Never grow up, push past into happiness
Fairy influence & the magic it might behold
Let us go now & create a story that’s yet untold
Where love & insanity will always meet
The freedom within our wild heartbeats
Close your eyes, finding something lost
Your favorite memory forever embossed
Tossed into slumbering pages of a book
Captive audiences held by Captain Hook
The golden cutlass, the prize of his plunder
Sharp, but wit marks our Boy Wonder
The best things in life are never planned
Without remorse, we return to Neverland
Catching Her Skirt In The Wind
Catching her skirt in the wind
Weathering this day nonetheless
Hair whipping across her face
Flustered; such a beautiful mess
A chilly day among the Highlands
Her tartan blowing in the breeze
The magic of something almost seen
My mind caught up in nature’s tease
Dancin’ On The Dew Drops
Dancin’ on the dew drops
Behind the magic of the unseen
Lettin’ the sun shine through
Another morning light & serene
Duck & dive past negativity
Run free; barefoot on the grass
Soak up all of nature’s joy
I’m gonna go pinch my woman on the ass
Image by Olichel Adamovich from Pixabay
Dimples; The Marks Of The Fairies
Dimples; the marks of the fairies
Their love touched upon the very faces
Chosen to endure above the others
Dimmed, but remaining vague traces
Magic’s residue upon your life
Nature knowing what is true
Selected to be special
Out of all the woods, they settled upon you
Smelling Coffee Long Before
Smelling coffee long before
These tired eyes were ever meant to open
Dreading wakin’ and meetin’ people
No time like now, so here’s to hopin’
The day started & it’s past time to rise
One foot out & eventually the other leg
I’m going to need more of this magic juice
I feel society comin’ at me like the damn plague
The Warmth Of The First Coast Has Returned
The warmth of the First Coast has returned
But the ocean haze is beating out the sunshine
Sitting on the boardwalk, cold drink in my hand
My love reading me the pages of ‘Dandelion Wine’
Summer hasn’t arrived with its full force
In the breeze, the air cool, yet warm for March
Sideways glances, thinking of her last night
Her beauty mine to behold, her back perfectly arched
Watching children playing in the surf
These quiet beaches surrounded by thick mangroves
A wilderness of paradise’s perfect setting
Your whole life waiting for such an idyllic trove
Where there’s no concern for silly tan lines
The sunshine kissing our bodies like a magic wand
Getting lost, leaving unmentionables on the line
Removed from sight, her underbrush covered by palm fronds
It’s different once your cross into the sand
Slow your mind, pour a frozen drink & a slice of Key Lime
Colors, flavors & appetites are all enhanced down here
Mother Nature’s sun, precise remedy for the Wintertime
Image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay
Don’t Rush Me, Woman
Ye Judgement
Ye judgement
Comes at such a wearying price
I cannot compete with your mind
You imagine a crumbling paradise
I need to be out among my own
With those special little creatures
Characters thriving in my thoughts
Magic & love are seducing features
The Greatest Coffee Ever.
“No, you have to pour more in.”
“This is okay. You don’t want to use too much.”
“The color is off.”
“I’m getting there.”
“Okay, I think it is time to stir.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
The elves were perched upon his old coffee mug. Together they were stirring the creamer in with all their collective strength. Their small hands gripping the wooden spoon, careful not to fall into the steaming liquid concoction below.
“What do you think?”
“It looks good.”
“Yeah, that looks to be the right combination.”
“We better go.”
“Yeah, he’ll be up soon.”
The man walked into his dimly lit kitchen, rubbing his eyes. His glasses were propped up over his brow. He stood in the doorway, clothed in his usual plaid pajama pants and v-neck undershirt. Every morning was the same. He came into the kitchen and mindlessly pressed the button on the coffeemaker. Then he watched the precious coffee fall into the pot, always anxious for the first cup.
His coffee was waiting for him. Confusion swept over him. He always had to make his own coffee. His knew his wife and children were still asleep. It would be a few hours before he had any company, even the dog remained curled up. He slowly walked in to investigate. It had the perfect coloring. He timidly touched the side of the cup. It was hot.
Within his peripheral, he noticed movement out on the back lawn. When he looked out there, he saw nothing. The man unlocked the door and stepped out into the calm morning air. He smiled and shook his head. He went back inside and enjoyed the best cup of coffee he ever had.
The End.
or
When he stepped outside, the man noticed tiny footprints. There were a few blades of grass that were trampled just so. He noticed a slight iridescent glow to those peculiar blades. The footprints went across the lawn into his wife’s rose bushes. The man smiled. He hadn’t thought about them since he was a child.
The End.
Margery Williams
“He didn’t mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn’t matter.”
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
Peter Pan
“All it takes is faith, trust, & a little pixie dust.”
– Peter Pan ✨
Fairytales
Hans Christian Andersen
“Every man’s life is a fairy tale written by God’s fingers.” – Hans Christian Andersen
Image by iris Vallejo from Pixabay
John Quincy Adams
Courage and perseverance have a magical talisman, before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish into air.- John Quincy Adams
Captain Q 