Michael Gale Poems

Furrowment of the Heavenly mount..
All good things in life, really do count.

Do not let others, do you bad...
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Frosted, frozen lake's winds...
Unbridled passions, unleashed, to all four corners of the world.

Galactic storms, blow forth torn, tattered remains...
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Lo' we weave a dream of a middled dream....
Lo' i run to scream, within thy middled dream.

Alas-my muddled weave, as if thy dream had dreamed...
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A Dragony tale...
Fire breathed, nostril's swell.

The dragon had soared and glided on by...
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Erosions of a demedicated heart...
Leaks out, about a quart o'blood,
from the git-go'ed start.
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Porous waste...
Pouring through my fingers.

In my mouth, a most terrible taste...
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The sheet, drawn up above closed eyes...
No peeking, slipped stiff, and out cold as ice.

A mistic clouded vapor, arisen to air....
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My ma, had many cats, she'd chase...
A better viewed, viewing, than a steep-led race.

Have you ever been, on the boat of life? ...
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Peter Pan milks the cow's udder....
When'st he is not churning, his own, brand of peanut butter.

He has a little pixie friend, named stinker bell...
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A flower's growing chutes, are like our fellowed, good buds...
Like as a bubble bath's suds.

Floating about, here and there...
...