Love from the Willows

Take note of the Naked Souls
Coming from the Willow Grove
walking along a path
paved with memory and marigolds

Behold the lore told
many times before
of young love and old souls
auspicious lives to explore

A very merry couple indeed

Those that believe in love
could see the varying degrees
reflected by feelings of affection
that they often shared between them

Even on the days that were
ripe with pride and ego
there would always be a way
for their affinity to grow

All of their days were filled
with life, love and laughter
Until the fateful one
where one love
transitioned
into the hereafter

Take note of the Naked Souls
Coming from the Willow Grove
walking along a path
paved with memory and marigolds

sodden mortal eyes
and shattered bleeding heart
Nothing else will matter
to a world torn apart

One love left alone
to roam forlorn
and in despair
A life in pain is never fair
for no other love
could ever compare
to the kindred spirit
gone elsewhere

And yet

There is another
previously unacquainted
with the wandering love
seemingly forsaken
Smitten with the spirit
Taken by admiration

A sweet and sentimental soul
sadly kept at a distance
no chance for kinship
for forlorn love
remains reminiscent

There is association
between the two
but young love is obstinate
resistant to love anew
exceedingly scrupulous
Every breath under review

Then the day comes
where the sweet soul of one
has traveled far
and cannot return for a time

Stormclouds and dark days
prevent any hope for contact
resulting in a negative impact
and young love retracts even more
feeling forsaken

Take note of the Naked Souls
Coming from the Willow Grove
walking along a path
paved with memory and marigolds

Young love sits alone
eyes soaking in tears
heart bathing in morose emotion
Until a presence appears

Love lost is found again
An apparition of the past
Embodied in the present
Reunited at last

But only for a moment

Love is young
and love transitions
but love is never lost
although that’s often the thought

Love that’s never lost speaks
of young loves stubborn nature
often the cause of discord
and disagreements between them
but also the source of admiration
The wellspring of young loves determination
beautiful all the same
but here no one is to blame

Young love can shine again
not for the sake of sentimental soul
but because love has no end
cannot be lost
and when genuine
is always whole

Take note of the Naked Souls
Coming from the Willow Grove
walking along a path
paved with memory and marigolds

They’ve come to tell us what they know

Mummies vs. Aliens

Far in the vast expanse
of the final frontier
A roaming presence searches
drawing near
Persistent
Insists on finding
a missing gift
Drifting
towards discovery and destiny
On a mission
dedicated towards its recovery

A small and strange world
rife with water and life
just might be the key
to end a journey’s plight
Success now in sight
A visitor slips into the atmosphere
entering a world of sand
and bright sunlight

Brick and mortar
ascending to a point
to mark the ending of a journey
Precious treasure
guarded by stone and sheild
yield no real protection
against a single wide beam
emitted from a strange being’s vehicle

The unwanted guest’s quest
doesn’t go without protest
which is contested
with claim of possession
A firm, heavy handed declaration
materializes
deciding the outcome
of this altercation

The extraterrestrial stranger
gets dragged below grains of sand
buried under waves of dry land
hands down a defeat by any means

Back across a few galaxies
A whole horde and cavalry
assess the gravity of the situation
They begin advancing angrily, rapidly
in battle formation
with a great inclination
towards catastrophe
No chance for salvation
if their precious treasure
and compatriot
aren’t returned safely…

Willow Fields

Bury me
In the field of willows
So I can release my energy
Into the trees

Bury me
Among the willow trees
So when it rains
The skys
And the leaves
They weep for me

Bury me
In the willows meadow
Where the roots below
Like to meet and greet each other

Bury me
In a field of dreams
Because they never die
As long as someone believes
Then I stay alive

Two Sides

It’s like the rise and fall
Of a heaving
Breathing chest and ocean waves
The days when you feel so brave
crave the most perilous of adventures
compared to the days
When an isolated itch has you afraid
Of some deep foreboding omen
Which stems not from the itch itself
But the mind which perceives it
Deceptions, tricks and inaccurate perceptions
What do you make of this?
Two faces of every human
as the heads and tails of a coin flip
If such concept exists
Can I always stay ahead
While you forever remain on my tail?
But why should such slaved conditions prevail?
When we are not the final design
that these lines of fate have drawn
Yet it has gone on
and long enough I might add
For we have found pain and peace
In our insignificance to things greater than we
In the the hallows of our own importance
and in all places in between
Though as I’ve postulated
countless times before
reiterated
that it is such ranking which pains us so
For as the head of the coin looks to the sky
The tail end sits on the table
It’s natural comfort with acrobatics
Allows it to stand on its head
Tail to the sky
Following a spin
A dance
A clicking and clanking
In all manner of ways

Quick Pome

It has been quite some time

Where

I manifest my feelings in the form of rhyme and I

Feel something strange

My thoughts are often lost

In an unfinished book of arbitrary cost and I

Haven’t felt what it’s been like to

Just write

A small little block

A footnote with a sock

A chance to touch my own insides