The spirit flies across the sea
where songs of locusts blend
with sounds of crystal waterfalls
in liquid turquoise dreams
...
I want to be a hummingbird
that flits from flower to flower
I want to spin my wings so fast
between fresh morning showers
...
they claimed the blood moon was most bright
when clocks of night
knelled five past three
and I agree
...
'Shhh' read the scribbles made in haste
upon that cold gray wall
as darkness covered alley paths
and dread fell over all
...
What's an oar and what's a paddle
what's a mount and what's a saddle
yaks in herds and flocks of birds
who can ever master words?
...
Watch the river currents flow
to and fro, to and fro
see the bubbles rise and grow
vanishing to depths below
...
What is a poem but a whisper
a lark, a sprite, a butterfly
a silver sparkle on the ocean
a fleeting cloud just floating by
...
A candle burns and melts away
its stately form transforming
but to a fleeting memory
of warmth and welcome glowing
...
There are people who have loved me
and a few whom I have loved
There are those I've soon abandoned
...