LOST TRUST… a poem

silhouette of man and woman under yellow sky
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Itrusted you

Andyou let me down

Walkingover me

Likea well-worn rug


My faith in you


Thepain you brought

Now,pay the cost


Like icicle knives

Thrustinto me


Crimson,emotional strife


Youare no longer welcome here

Takeyour burdens

Takeyour words

Takeyour callousness somewhere else


Eastern Whip-poor-will Adult
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Come out little Whip-poor-will

It’s such a lovely day

The sun is on the rise again

Please come out and play

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Come out little Whip-poor-will

The Pheasant’s on the run

We all have a job to do

Our song, it must be sung

Image result for whip-poor-will bird
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Come out little Whip-poor-will

The seed is on the ground

We’ll forage it together

There’s so much to be found

Image result for fox eating a bird
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Goodbye little Whip-poor-will

I see feathers on the rocks

We’ll sing, so long, in our song

Thanks to a stealthy fox

REFLECTION… a poem of faith

green leaf plant sprout
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Yes, I’ll take your hand, Lord

When you offer it to me.

Of all your plantings in this world

I am but a mustard seed.


But, you see inside of me

Much better than I do.

In this, I place my heart and soul

To do what you will do.


Understanding, I will take from this

Looking to my other hand.

For this is how I will share your love

Reflection, to my fellow man.


And though you don’t release me

Forever clasp inside your heart

My travels true

With words of you

Will be my place to start.

“Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move…”


AZRAEL… a dark poem

Graveyard, Cemetery, Death, Grave, Funeral, Tomb

Woe, to the eyes that saw me

In the lackluster, deluge

Of yesterday’s dream.

What sayeth thee?

Ye of night vision

And chilled, blackened stares?

Are thee an owl?

Perched high above

And watching for human pray?

Whilst the stars witness

You prowl within the mind

Wreaking havoc upon those

Unwitting, and unwilling souls.

You are the embodiment of screams.

Nightmare flees when

You infest the scene.

You are terror incarnate – Azrael.


white teacup on plate surrounded pink roses

A honeycomb reflection

Bringing smiles

Bringing tears

Remembrance of a season

Passing days

Passing years

She sat on her veranda

With a teacup in her hand

Soaking in the fragrance

She once shared

She loved her man

Sunlight glistens beautifully

In that cup of liquid gold

The years, they had been good to her

Oh, the stories that she told

And for the lines and wrinkles

That creep across her face

Not a single would she trade

To be in any other place