Brian Tinsley

Soft spoken wind
Of the trees
So many branches twisting
Yet we forget
...

The root of the heart
Is not easy to reach
But some crepid, darkening
Slowly are breached
...

The day which stood
Still asleep in the sun

Quiet and peaceful
...

How my heart bled for you
and like a well ran dry...

I feel the wind in my hair
...

If two moose are called moose
and two goose are called geese

Then why aren't two mouse
...

I knew a man once
He told me that you should take in account every decision you make
because the smallest of things can affect the life of someone else
in such a big way
...

are you the one?
how can i be sure
so many things out there
do we have to try them all
...

I guess you could say
I'm a poet at heart

I'll finish writing this poem later
...