James McLain Poems

I could write about Ambrose Pierce and you can be his weather.
He lived with most great men and women.
Forecasts of me dear woman, I am pleasant.
Between Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain, Samuel Clement.
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I just was thought-provokingly,
I always read more into something than there was.
After two years it becomes more than a job.
It became more than life, life my own.
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It is at my age to claim as my own
the herein below cigar aficionado
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If certainties the sky I sleep, vanear.
A petal turned its bottom lip upon.
When the darker side of day is crystal clear.
If certainties, I paint the sky with sleep.
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How much is ever enough?
The foam of the waves, does she care?
Today while I was asleep.
They were awakened by you as I dreamt as I slept.
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Can you in the title see your soul?
Is it brown, green or gold other colours I am
that you weave,
and though your mind is not Maggie, I feel.
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Rain it teems with mystery a secret found in space.
It hides us beneath the sky upon the ground.
Flowing to the window next to mine,
it winds around her ankle then flow to the oceans.
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People learning the
difference is not the same
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To men different signs the heavens Have.
To turn against and brush beneath the sky.
And land like birds upon their merry feet.
While smaller things that seem to make us mad.
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Closed they seal my eyes.
My breath it sold for gain.
Common mortal man had much to gain.
While what I owe all saw me pay.
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