Observations of a Wallflower
I sit and I ponder many things while I sip my glass of Pinot and stare out the window of this quaint cafe’. I love this place, this little street of eclectic…
I sit and I ponder many things while I sip my glass of Pinot and stare out the window of this quaint cafe’. I love this place, this little street of eclectic…
The shadow races across the blue ridge Sitting on the stone wall, lost in each other Not a care in the world for that moment As the sun cast it’s shadow Little…
The coward runs so far away Yet never really leaving He rants and raves and calls her names The proof he is still grieving Denial comes in many forms For him…
People are an interesting lot. As I sit here, enjoying a glass of Pinot for the first time in twenty-six years, I reminisce over all the years gone by. I…
This space will do nicely. It is a bit cramped in spots, but over here will work. Yes, I believe I will settle down right here and live for as long as I can…
The next morning at breakfast, she went over all the days chores that needed to be done. “you can ride to school today, take Jester. But you come straight…
Behave, but its better to never obey, Detour, delay, Christina Ricci, my 8 yr. old self wanted Wednesday Way back in the day, hey, I had Peachy facial hair and…
Hunger consumes this wasted body A man of skin stretched o’er his bones Food becomes ash with each bite taken Yet onward play the drones Poisonous sip - no…
Rest Calmly you say Every thought a haunting Leaving an emptiness so deep Now oceans apart Seeking what we must Ever Apart for the best Yet love still lingers…
If ever I am subject to those notes again I swear I’ll dig your heart out with my fav’rite pen I’ll place it on the table, staining every page Until it’s…
I’ve always loved to listen in And never seen it as a sin The words so lovely echo ‘round I smile at the sound Events are meant for invitees And often I’ve…
Why does the writer mourn? His hands and pen doth make no mark His mind is shadowed in the dark Demeanor thus forlorn, Why does the writer mourn? Why does the…
Morning found me drunk with sleep, head spinning with exhaustion It crept beneath my eyelids, peering in with little caution And pushing them awake divorced my…
Life is but a flicker From one moment to the next Never mind if slower, quicker Life is but a flicker Sparks abruptly at the start Ends in ways no one expects…
Sitting here, in my bed So many thoughts fill my head One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock I just keep counting thru the flock My head it aches from lack of…
Though my fame may wax and wane And though my head grow hoary I will never remain satisfied To bask in former glory
Would it not be wonderful Getting paid for what I write A dream of many I am told And doubtful that I might If I could get a little cash For all the time I…
Alone he sits at his fated task Deep in thought, behind his mask Pen in hand and paper steady To bleed his passion at the ready Quill and Ink and words a…
Pillars stretching upward toward a ceiling as a sky Worlds apart, the traveler will use them all to fly Not through air, nor crossing land, but waiting for the…
Purpose often staggers ‘gainst its own increasing weight What motion once was confident, now cause to hesitate Beware the goal’s corrupting of life’s set…