The trees are bare
The leaves have fell
The morns have frost
It’s cold as hell
...
There is no sky.
There are no clouds.
The world about is gone.
No birds arrive
...
I once dreamed
of an idyllic place
A time where I sat in a chair
in a sunlit room
...
How blest the cohort of the depression
Our fathers lived in trenches
Then ten years without the Demon
...
The spring's impetuous grass,
Springing through late winter snow,
Marked by blooming forsythia,
Conquer the unyielding changes of March.
...
What is a beautiful woman?
Is it the tilt of the head?
The ratio of the physiognomy?
The form of the body?
...
I wait the vaunted wind to rise,
While gazing on the icy bough.
The night has brought a beauteous sight
Of hanging limbs bedecked in white
...
We know what loss of Father be,
Or Son or Brother means to we,
I know that only one can see,
That loss is greater than simple be.
...
There are the few genius'
In each generation
Who compose more than one theme.
...
Up The Hill
Lerner and Holder
Went up the hill
To testify on matters
Holder and Lerner
Came down the hill
Their reputations in tatters
Obama said
Up the hill
On all executive matters
We've had our fill
Said the hill
Of Obama's reclusive ratters