Monday, March 19, 2007

Sunset Story

some tales come as a gift of love
reaching you when all seems stuck
a wretched muddy rut
and then it seeps in lovingly
culling all bandied grief
leaving behind a soggy smile
to screen the elation behind
that springs from a tale not often told

Misty Thoughts

I've been to the land...
of mountain mist and chimney smoke
where length of days are measured by shadows
that creep up the valley below.
where barren moist secrets
guarded by silent peaks
lie still...
secluded from earthly planes.
and when cold high winds make haste
rushing down to warmer lands
their path lit by northern stars and moonlight harsh,
the soul stays snug and the heart beats warm burning wood and chimney smoke