Best Time Poems

Entering the doorway through my heart
Following the nuance of space
Allowing expansion ~ mystery ~ and curiosity
To guide me into realms of spiritual awakening
Journeying through moments...

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 Crystal winged hourglass flows muted gold sand
as...

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POTD 6th Sept 2019

When the dawn kisses the dew on all thing that grow
and that first melancholy thought, ponderous and low
questions any relevant notions to...

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In between my autumn and winter years
Time passes without notice, seeking you
In remembrance of our time, through my tears,
Of passions we shared just you and...

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The sun was rising high in the east over the town of Milton creek
It was the eighteenth day of December, the start of Christmas week
All...

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A new borns cry
Tearful last good bye

Swaying waves of golden prairie grass
Shifting desert dunes - an hour glass

An acorn dropping among forest leaves
To mighty oak...

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"September, beautiful month of my birth, is nigh, but I cannot feel glad."

September, drifting in with glow of moon,
you stifle Summer’s ardor. . . and...

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Softly and sadly
Up on the knoll;
The vesper bell
Begins to toll.

Lock all the doors
Blow out the light;
The hour is late
Sleep comes with the night.

Close all the...

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"HOLDING HIS HAND"

*The Voice*
God, can I hold your hand and follow you?

"God's voice"
My child, it is I who will walk with you! You walked down...

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We will walk then, you and I

When daylight shuts her weary eye;

Down the streets where beggars sleep

And drug crazed addicts spend their keep.

On streets that...

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Receive
Listen
Be Still

Whispered words arriving on teardrops of the wind
They call to me
Embracing me so that I may exhale
For a moment in time

I look down to...

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The Old Painter

sublime my paintings, memory be
lost in time, I now must see

where once the gale winds trembled chill
wrapped in blankets, remember still

a touch, a...

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Our first awareness
      falling through time
      through blood-rain, pure white snow, green vegetation 
 ...

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The farm
     and the porch light hums 
the sound of another 
orange dawn.

Burnt up – crisp
     ...

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Sometimes life is such a bore we run on automatic;
Then it’s time to tango for a dash of the dramatic.
Or when things are dull and...

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