they have been friends of mine these many years
often they came from somewhere deep inside
welling up as water released like tears
rivulets of thought o’er blank sheets they’d slide
much as if they played with their own beauty
we cannot live without words nor want to
a sword to use against our enemy
people are learning yet all this is new
often borrowing words from Cervantes
allows me to tell of this wondrous place
knowing words is not always knowing thoughts
most happy while held in their warm embrace
worn by elusive words I would master
if I sleep tomorrow will come faster

Out of Sorts Sonnet

I started trying to write a sonnet
to my chagrin I with failure was met
count as I might never syllables ten
dribbled forth from my silent weeping pen
vagrant pulses fleeting across blank sheets
collide in that realm where everything meets
confusion runs amok blotting out ink
that must finally into paper sink
this battle I swear will end in success
tho’ to some my scribbles may seem a mess
I struggle through this dark and endless night
asking nothing except to win this fight
never prone to gamble I place my bet
I shall complete this out of sorts sonnet


it would seem that it is human nature
to wander from place to place where ever
desire or necessity should lead us
roads pass our abodes leading all away
to another place each time we dare leave
as interesting as these roads can be
most intriguing can be those long lost trails
we all so often pass yet never see
scattered with imaginary endings
destinations reached only in our dreams
we all have such trails near our minds surface
begging to feel our feet caressing them
aching to lead each wanderer away
toward that peace all ache to feel inside