Time knows no beginning or end
Old Buildings wave and wend,
And the words live on in the wind...
...
Wanna tell you a story in paper and paint
The words don't come easy, sometimes colors grow faint.
Just a simple story, it's truth to impart,
Of Life's conversation, a gift from the heart.
...
Workers of the world unite
Before the nectar-laden world takes flight
And shreds our delicate web of life
Into Oblivion...
...
One Man.
One Frayed Heart..
One Transgression...
One Repression....
...
Your voice has gone the way
Of the whistle-stop and the mountain lion's cry
Of the dark shadows hanging over well-hidden hollars
Of the rattle-trap stills and the mule-drawn plow
...
They say, 'PTSD, Alcoholism,
A Druggie,
Don't let him take advantage,
Don't let him fool you.'
...
The painter inspires the poet. The poet reflects the soul of the art.
The blank white canvass, in its terrible absence, challenges as
'Thou, silent form, doest tease us out of thought.'*
Keats, inhabits his Grecian Urn, its frolic to impart.
...
Dark Shadows, purple and black,
Threaten us from Tall Trees lining both sides of
The dirt trail. Trees, like crossing-guard
Sentinels, tunnel us onward,
...
Mamaw tells the story of how it used to be,
In a special time and special place
When she was a kid like me.
'Imagine a shady grove of trees, under dark branches I do sit;
...