The Magical World of Poetry

Heartfelt, Impulsive, Freeing

Poetry has no limits. 

It's flow, It's freedom. 

I love everything about it.


There has got to be a trust within.

Until it happens, one simply keeps circling the round about.

An endless spinning dial.

You have to follow the guidance system, the one you were born with and not the upgraded version installed after you were born. 

For the latter will never be true to you.


Each moments passes me by, never to be reclaimed.

I shudder as I stand in the dining room looking out the window to the west.

Nothing stopping.

The wind, blowing time in whatever direction it wants. 

The dog lost in her own battle with time, as are those locked in their cars, driving up and down the highway of life.

How could I waste so many moments, especially since I don't know how many I have left.

My Vehicle

It has never been my expectation that everyone would understand my thoughts.

For you see, the sky is not always clear and bright in my world, and that is okay with me.

My love is writng, and no matter what I write, I don't need your approval.

I merely need a vehicle to express myself.

Enjoy if you wish, understand if you can, but regardless, all that concerns me is that you don't judge me for the honesty I present to myself. 

For unlike some, I play with words, not people.