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This was a mother''s day poem written for my Mom. I learned later in life that my Mom was a praying woman. Hard to leave my kids at home and go to work. A very long time ago. PS said I could post this without fear and trembling. I love that AD does not censor our skepticism or other angsts about the state of the world and .... true love is not found on anyone''s door We all have our own special thoughts about money - wanting it, losing it, having it - and I just wanted to share this poem I wrote, "Money." (Most of ... Whether it''s redistribution of wealth, or a much-needed redistribution of sanity, as we try so hard to live some kind of uniqueness, a separation fro... To express one’s convictions in relatable form often stymies creativity’s start point. (Image by Adobestock) Throughout history, in every culture; monsters continue to prevail, horrify, and fascinate. Syllable format – (4-4-6-8-6)
Montenegro Aria
(First Movement)
Time stood still
While twilight faded
In the beginning
My dreams stood silent,
Monte-Christo fell dead,
... Quiet contemplation on the beauty, blessing and effect of the celestial orb we call our moon. <bgsound src = 'http://members.tripod.com/~rosemck1/by-the-light-of-the-silvery-moon.mid'hidden loop=-1> <bgsound src = 'http://members.tripod.com/~rosemck1/by-the-light-of-the-silvery-moon.mid'hidden loop=-1>
Melancholia becomes a salve, a companion in open waters. I am his forever fan. Long, long story starting from when I was 13, my very first song I wrote for him, for he was my inspiration for everything artis... This is a little ditty about a memory of camping in the Allegheny Mountains. Memories or deja vu who knows but this one begged to be released so I will let you decide on its worth... Think a 1930s croon...
Photo from Watercolors of Snow Seychelle
Sorry, folks, this one''s a dud.
<embed src="http://www.authorsden.com/adstorage/4750/3FANT2GM.MID"hidden="false"border="0"width="310"height="45"autostart="true"autoplay="true" loo... Fragile poet’s heart......Effortlessly trampled.........
A person is born with desires of the eyes and ears, and a liking for beautiful sights and sounds. If he gives way to them, they will lead him to immor... Some argue that one cannot change his or her navigational course without first accepting life’s weather pattern of light and dark has lost its moral ...
Back in the 70s, ''dirty climbing limericks'' like these were a regular part of the evening''s amusement in Yosemite''s notorious ''Camp-4'', when c... These are the last of the previously alluded to ''loose poems'' that somehow eluded capture in my notebooks of the 70s and 80s. If none of it makes an... |
