What I Am

I love to sit in the grass and admire the scene 

While the trees gently sway in a warm summer breeze

Enjoying the clouds and the smell of the air 

My heart starts to dream, I can go anywhere 

A king only wishes he could have it so good. 

I can travel afar from this place in the woods

The things I desire will always work out. 

There's never a question and never a doubt

Should a person depend on passion so much?

Does it keep satisfaction out of my touch?

But poems and songs settle my mind

Feelings of ardor; inspired, sublime  

I am a passion, with logic a cloak 

A part is a dream the rest is a hope

I'm making a way in this world so dire 

By using these words and sharing the fire. 

At Least

We've always been known as stubborn 

That's what I find delightful 

But I didn't think you'd act this way

As a thought inside my head  

It's always the same old pattern

Refusing to leave at times 

I try not to love the way

You come back to have a last word

A story for a couple of bookworms

But action makes us all fools

Impressions are hard to remove

At least we can say that we try

The Now

It ends here 

In my sight

An experience

It begins here

In the light 

Sensation 

This room

This person

This aire

This presence

Appreciation 

Adoration 

Moments

From dreams 

Become memories

The Time Between

Between the night and the dawn

Is where we find desire

To be alive is to want 

This is the nature of life 

Yet souls also desire rest 

But the ultimate rest is death 

Those who live will pursue 

Those who love will hope 

Our ambitions begin 

Between the night and the dawn

A Kind Man

If you've fallen in love with a man who is kind

Most people you meet are careless and blind

Don't think for a minute that care makes him weak

To stop an offense he's the first one to  speak

When his kind eyes are furrowed you best not engage 

But he doesn't take pleasure in using his rage 

He'll distance himself from malice and strife

Since heartfelt joy is his mission in life 

He'll look after your heart the best way that he knows

If it causes him pain he won't let it show  

He may respond slow since he thinks all things through

But whatever he does will be the best thing for you. 

Those who he loves shouldn't worry or fret

His heart is steadfast and he never forgets. 

Whistling

I held a gift so close 

Its life began to crumble

Every time I held it 

I always seemed to fumble

So I stand afar 

Admiring yet perplexed

How a gift that brings such joy 

Can also be so vexed

The answers can't be found

In an atmosphere of gloom

So my hands are in my pockets

And I'm whistling a tune 

Mornings

Mornings come where all is well

No matter how the darkness fell

A ray of light comes piercing through

Reminding us each day is new

We have a book with open pages

Walls to scale if we're courageous 

Days for us to fill with song

And nights give us the dawn. 

The Mystery

I put my mind to a mystery 

About the feelings we call love

Does God hold a store?

Where he slowly gives it out

Or is it always within reach?

Are we are the ones with limits

Slowley absorbing a little at a time

It seems that way sometimes 

Especially when we lose love 

The loss tears us apart inside

And doesn't leave enough love to give 

But it's supposed to come back

Not so pleasant feelings creep in 

To fill in the void left in a heart

And we beg for feeling to return

To replace the cold trying to settle in

It takes a slow soak in thankfulness

To help remove the numbness

We want to be good stewards 

With a directive to meter it out

To those it belongs to 

But love goes where it wants 

It isn't easily directed