Jon Alan Poems

My dearest of Angels, you might think me mad
I have yet to sleep and rest my head
Though my heart is aflame with the promise of Love
I am too restless to sleep, Lord above,
...

Sidney died by the lake,
on the way to his funeral
He could not bear the loss
and was overwhelmed with grief.
...

Like shoes void of a spirit
To bring them Life
The night is but a hollow
bewitching wife.
...

In forgotten fields a lone man walks
On aged brown and crumpled stalks
Bygone times and ageless thoughts
Nothing is left of the things he sought.
...

When this psychedelic world
Makes something out of nothing,
When this enhanced ability to imagine
called Hallucination
...

Wind blown daffodils swayed in the breeze
of an eternal afternoon of breezy sighs
which swept her away to the
furthest reaches of her fantasies.
...

In the twilight of the dawn
You can hear the mourning's song,
You can sense the lost and lonely as they weep.
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Inquisitive nature, that cat.
How very curious,
How simply luxurious.
...

And here the dear departed
Rest comfortably, indeed,
Fore the wind is always caressing
Never whipping up a scream
...

I'm a dime store mystic
...