Osceola Waters Poems

THE—OTHER—WORLD-UNSPOILT page-one
The next dimension,
The invisible place,
The home of spirits,
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The drums still beat,
The songs are not silent,
Feet are still in rhythm with the drum,
The dance still sends the dust up into the atmosphere,
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Horse man of yesterday ride upon horses that disappear into tomorrow,
They make no sound, only in visions can they be seen,
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The voice that comes from the heart is not understood by many people,
The message is unheard by the majority,
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Black Thick fog creates a curtain of hidden death riding on horse back,
A place for foot soldiers to move unseen,
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I look at ancient walls and terraced ground and dream,
I hear laughter,
I hear the clatter of people going about their daily routine,
I hear voices of the people that are deep in conversation,
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Why Is My Heart Broken?
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What Art Means to Me
Art to me is spiritual,
Art to me is religious,
Art is 99% imagination,1% talent?
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Forests shrouded in fog and mist,
Through quietness tinkling trickles flow,
Trickles increase,
Growing into streams,
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I Have a Vision.
I stink, I smell,
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