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About me

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Why not visit me and our other poets @ All in a pen

What I've Been Up To


Life is an orbit,
an axis to cycle changes.
Every moon a dark side,

a light side.


Sneezed away in time.

If secrets die
when memory fades,
when minds do
eventually crumble,
then simple,
household dust
yet still may hold
all the enigmas
of this particle world.

So I urge you,
dust carefully
and acknowledge its value,
before you clean away
the snuff of the once held,
once breathed,
undisclosed dream.


Of lost Celtic tunes. 

Mystic in voice, 
notes from another shore 
linger on when they can. 

Reminding of strong limbs, 
rolled sleeves 
now in faded garment pale,
when lutes were loud, 
golden and fullsome 
as a bright harvest moon. 

Mandolins carried upon backs 
of wandering musicians, 
they were hardy fellows 
to say the least, 
and their apprentice tunes, 
melodies of night wonder, 
traveling daytime dreams. 

Forget-me-not songs 
of how one wildflower 
in a field full of red poppies, 
found in contrast, another. 

Mars thinks itself primary,
but loves the sun's yellow seen
and orbiting Earth of blue,
lived too briefly,  green.

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