The Moon Makes Silver

I open my window letting in the moonlight 
I see an owl on a moonbeam flight

The moon makes silver on my pillow
Runes scatter on the weeping willow

My window dusted with dreams open
Night blooms hold my words, unspoken

Calligraphy of the cosmos in the skies
Changes the color in my eyes

Only the November wind between me and the sky
And all the nature I can descry.

Beard Nest

There once lived a man with a long beard 
In his whiskers, his pet birds he reared
One fine day, his balbo gave way
Birdies lost their nest, flew into a fray
Smeared him with droppings
Pecked the hair off his head
Sheared off his shaggy eyebrows
To the jungle he had to repair.

Free My Words

let my
Quill move
Under your hands
Charged and electrified moving through words
My mind writes into my burned out fingers
Carving the page
Freeing it
From being
Of spring's blossoms
Embrace the cadence of stardust's glow where
Solitary syllables come undone
Heart releases
Thunder of 
Up a 
Chair and sit
Next to my soul
Let me show you how poetry has touched
Shaped me and made me who I am
Come, fill my quill
Spill some ink
Free my 



Chartreuse Dreams

I set off on one of my autumn dreams 
Under sunlight’s pale golden beams
Meandering tawny meadows
Looking for gilded harvest rainbows
I muse into gurgling brooks, streams

Trees prepare to bare their soul
Cascading russet, copper leaves fold
To lay down a carpet of gold
Nip in the air warmness stole
Braes hibernate as I stroll

I breathe a palette of earthy hues
Air crackles in the ruddiness that brews.

Happiness reigns supreme
In the footfalls of my chartreuse dream.

Sole Talk

His sneakers would squeal on him if they could talk
Groaning under his weight as he took a walk
They felt all worn out
Carrying a man so stout
He went places where he shouldn’t have been
Them shoes, literally let out a scream
So they gave him shoe bites, sore toes
Adding to his list of woes
They stuck evidence on his sole
He fought barefoot to salvage his soul.

Better Half

Sitting in solitude 
She feels his words rise on her breath
Like an angel he sparks her soul

Lighting her wings
Letting her fly

Hé graces her ink
Making it distinct
He is her symphony that serenades silence in time’s frame.

She feels his touch
Golden , fragrant
His knowledge eternal
His wisdom in her heartbeat radiant

His breath wraps a tune in her head
She forgets her pain
Because there is laughter shared

She lives and she learns
In ivory pages and midnight yearnings.

My Fix

I dwell deeper into my thoughts 
My quill finding it’s way across the page
Even when the sky loses its stars
And I get caught up in pain
I can make the ache in my mind go away
Because to me writin is dope
And the only thing I need to be is
A poet