Write October Poems

In the darkest fields are my robes of blood
Soaking and cursing me every night to shed.
Little through the valley lies my heart; 
When I met...

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Someone asks if my literary work is fiction or reality
Engaging and inspiring those to read with affection
Expressing my thoughts and feelings through poetry
Weaving my spiritual,...

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October in her full display,
always ignites my poetic spark.
To write of love life and joy,
from rising sun to falling dark…...

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They saw each other,
For the first time.
She saw an angel,
For the first time.

Locked eyes and they smiled,
That few second of stare,
Was a life.

The day when...

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January…new year, new me.
Met you and now I’m happy. 
We watched the ball drop and kissed at midnight.


My February Valentine
hearts and flowers because you’re mine
as...

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Standing here
Miles from home
Where moonlit wheatfields 
Inspire me to write

October’s whisper
Causes their stir
And I watch as they
Undulate like ocean
Or satin sheets
Billowing over a bed

And I...

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Lost, oh must I write of common, autumn leaves?
Or,  Mom’s hot, fragrant apple pie?
Of my lovely, cobalt, silky blouse.
Or raindrops sprinkling on my house?

How...

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The changing colors
Of leaves in autumn,
Contributes to the natural beauty

beautiful landscapes, sunshine
and rain all contributes
To this astounding beauty

I see autumn leaves
Upon the towering trees
Multicolored, like...

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I doff my many hats away,
To a lazy sunny Saturday,
Lounging, lazing and lying about,
Doing absolutely nothing but nowt,
Just loving and dreaming the day away.

My love...

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Fall moves my meditative side to write.
I use my pen to celebrate this life,
to thank the Lord there’s much more joy than strife.
October is a...

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October comes, nostalgic thoughts in tow,
with new delights to form fresh memories
of breezy, peaceful sights and sounds that please.
Much more than I deserve, the blessings...

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I was born the last day of October
with bright blue and noonday skies.
Among autumn sunbeams of amber 
my infantile yearnings seemed to rise.

With bright blue...

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Barbed Flowers.

I would write this all down to you
If i thought you could read.
If your hand didn't cast a shadow
on what i would author.
If only...

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Sometimes I hope that at the end I make the right decision
Me speaking things into existence can be unforgiving
I'm moving in a pace so fast,...

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Around midnight, in the library I found myself drawn,
to these shelves haunted still by Poe, Stevenson and King,
as a rare, late October storm brews beyond...

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