Survived by none…
The person left no will… no message to be read… no requests upon the demise of their being… they lived alone… secluded… in the solitude of their own creation I am told… The passing was reported in a small paragraph… the deceased was found… in their favorite chair… in what appeared to be a state of sleep… peace full… rest full… known by all but a few… they will be missed as an icon more then a being… for little if anything is known of them… they always seemed to be there… a fixture… that watched over the goings on about town… they were survived by none… a collect of things old and new to be sold at auction with the proceeds going to the local home…in witch they refuse to retreat to… to be alone… to find peace in the solitude of the surrounding earth… to enjoy the final quest for answers that are now theirs… In truth we are all survived by no one… we pass on what little we know… to some other fortunate soul… who with the grace of the Gods may use it better then we have… They left no will but added to a place they refused to occupy… They spoke no words but they were missed… they stood guard over the hill so that others noticed more for knot being then being… they will be missed for time alters each of us by the knowledge of birth as well as in the crossing over… both are beginnings… both are endings… both are filled with questions that remain unanswered for a long time… we survived their passing… and the passing of many more… and we have celebrated in the creation of life as well…they were survived by us all… and it is us who needs to be blessed… for they are beyond our touch…

Remembering…
Quite often the mind alters the recollection just so… the details are lost in the passing of time… the memory being held in place by how we feel… A dream sequenced within a reality… The touch of a person’s hand… a particular smile… a gentle nudge… the elapsed span of time between the here and the now… I am a child in many ways I play with words to find the right combination of expressions to reveal a thought… Foolish ramblings are produced while the artist paints with words… and some good appears on the paper… and some knot so good and some just so-so… Quite often the memory of what was litters the ramblings… I have difficulty remembering what I did yesterday but I can with good clarity describe Christmas dinners with family that happened 35 years ago… I think my brain skips a few pages here and there… Sort of like an old LP… cracked and faded but still able to play… The art of remembering and it is an art leaves out the details for others and leaves me with the wondrous picture of times had… I am satisfied… I am in a state of happiness…

Don’t want to splain…
Eye donut want to splain myself over Andover to sat is fry the general pub lick… Those of us who read… what lies I rite hear the sounds of those who wish they could butt have yet to… sew the seeds… fertile eyes the fields of a dream and come away with the magic that is stirred in such a brew of lasting confidence… I donut wish to splain what I mean… I speak from the mist that hides my motives… I write from the void that dwells within my imagination… I am captured… a lost soul held… by the bars of their own making… I donut wish to splain all the time… so I will wash my hands of this… dirty play that it is and go on about my busy nests cleaning up what lies I have left for others to read…

Going…
The course of one’s life is measured by the smiles one obtains each day… Or at least it should be… Since I never stop smiling in one way or another then I am having one hell of a good time most of the time… One should walk their own path… Now I will admit that at times the path we choose does set us apart from others… at the same time diversity is the spice of life… We learn from what is different though we like what is similar to us… Difference helps us to over stand each other… I prefer to surround myself with that diverse nature… Sameness is a disease of fitting in… I donut wish to be a clone of some one else not do I want another to be a clone of me… I want the other side spoken… Then I have true choice… a true diverse perspective on life… Life does work out for the best… It really does… Choose to do what makes you feel wonderful… because it makes you feel wonderful… for the right reasons… seize the day…

Knot Knowing…
A lack of curiosity killed the cat… a supply of it added a certain spice to the elements that surrounded her… Inquisitive she is of the world that wraps her influence… She is magical in the sense that her actions are playful yet she learns from them… She learns from doing and the fuel for this is the curiosity that seeps into her mind… She wishes to play fully aware of the joy of playing for plays sake and the lessons she can learn from the play filled activities of her mind… She may knot know all that she wishes to know but she knows what is important… that she is having fun finding out… and in the end she will discover the mysteries and then she will know more… and be in more of a state of knot knowing what to due now…

Maybe…
It is the mood… the swing… the everlasting need to ebb and flow… I have often been asked how I see the bright side in what seems to be rather dark… Experience tells me that there is always a tomorrow to loom forward to… and no matter how I seem to see things there is always another point of view I have not considered… There is light in all things we do… and one need only find the spark that flickers and add some fuel to that spark and suddenly there is more light… more magic… more passion then you could ever believe possible… It is knot the ill nest… or the clouds… or the sorrow… the tears… the fear or the trial… it is all that one sees and feel in their heart… a circle closing in instead of moving out… a color fading instead of glowing… a simple phone call that lifts ones ear to hear… their voice to touch another’s edge… and then as we do what we do remembering the reason we do it… to enjoy the rain… to enjoy the tears we shed because we feel, to enjoy the heath we have for we remember what unhealthy is… and while the day shines brighter and the nights glow with anticipation of times yet to be… hold thyself in arms wrap in delight and smile for that one smile illuminates an entire picture painted… with the colors of your imagination… Enjoy the moments between the times…as much as the times themselves and then there is only wonder to enjoy… wasn’t there?

Spoken…
Cast aside the paddles and let the currents take one to the shore that most need the hand… to set foot on solid ground will be an act of fate… for the sea is shimmering with possibilities that call out for the mystery of life… Found are we… lost are we… searching are we… questioning are we… answering are we the challenges that present themselves to us… Magic is a magic has always done… to be a source of curiosity… of learning the way home… of searching far and wide to find what we always had right inside of us… The spoken words written in prose turn tricks… and the trade off is a wondrous adventure… Lettuce sea… lettuce float upon the tile ceilings and leaded floors of dreams… found are we to be lost once more… The earth calls to ground… the adventurous and dreamers… Nice to be here… lost in thought and wondering just how wonder filled this journey will be once more the best that can be… I have survived to this point… laughing… singing… smiling… I wonder know more the whys… just the why knots…

Once more…
I sit once more within the confines of the magic that is about me… I am lost in the mist as it swirls…as the ladder of each day appears before me there is only up to go… only progress to be made… only the future to hold my interests… I sit here alone today… for the first time in many days I am alone with my thoughts… Soon I will be reduced to using another place… another tool, another form or brush to paint my pictures… A challenge once more for me… I do so enjoy the peace and quiet… the joy of words ignites in me passion beyond belief… It has been a few days since I have found the solitude of a quiet place to sit and ponder my thoughts… In a few more I will take my journey on the road… I suspect that is the breaking point for me… The place to cross the road and leave one part of my life behind and start a new course…I wish I could reach out like I used to… I wish I could hold the stone close and smile like I used to… I wish I could butt the world refuses to allow such luxury… another problem to solve… another mountain to climb… another journey to prepare for… an exploration of self, of life… of the wonders of living as I know I can…

I sit holding hands and wishing for the physical touch… that comes so easily spiritually… Funny that is for it is the opposite that most long for… I was always very different… the opposite of what others dream about… One hand comforts another’s and soon the time has passed with out a word spoken… a sound exchanged… magical as that is… wondrous as that is… special as that is… I still have the desire for more… the passion for more… and I hesitate to let go… yet go I must and time being the impatient one he is separates us… and sends us on our ways…you to your wonders and me to mine… until the morrow when dawn meets the night once more…

A change of pace…
The pace alters a bit each day… Difference… a chance to sample another’s point of view… All illusions being what they are bring a light of a different color to the edge of each reality… What illusion I have I keep close to the vest… That is the way with me… Therefore I am rest less I should become content… The sin of content mint… of being satisfied with what one has… some point to this as a virtuous state… may be it is… still there is more to be had… more to share… more of the illusion to pick apart… When the pace changes so does the wheel, the direction of the spin, the turn alters and sends us into places we have yet to experience… are we prepared for the hand of fate? I am a bit off to one side… an honest illusion… So I tilt a bit… smiling I sound unreal… I am the illusion the dream that sets sparks to flames and while I stir the mixture I wonder… a loud mostly about the dream that rests within… Never more cries the raven… and then again what price magic?

Being okay…
Okay is a nice way to bee… I am okay most of the time… great some times… fabulous others… okay most of the time… okay defines my high or shall I say low place… it is okay to be here… it is safe…secure… If you haven’t noticed then you will now… that I tend to talk in circles… or it short takes of words… that seem to fit… well they do fit even when they seem not to fit… the mind goes in mysterious ways… and while it is off wondering it leaves part of the whole open to expressions of another’s mind…I am okay… odd at times and this is Shirley one of them… butt I am okay… I am smiling as I do most of the time… I will laugh a bit more today for it is appropriate and fun… and then the clock will chime… the day will turn and I will be okay once more… Some how I know you will over stand all of this…

The watch…
I have stood watch here for a long time… I had recollections today of all the times I have failed… failed to protect you from those things… left you alone… when you needed me… It sort of wears heavy on me those memories… a gun shot… an arrow… a knife… the feel of cold steel… an accident… a slip… the thrust of realization inside my mind… forgive me my sentimental nature… of late… I have dwelled in the past a bit too often… I will stand the watch this night as I do each night and wonder… as you sleep… there rest fully held in the arms of the dreams you are dreaming… some times with a smile… some times with a tear… always I am there watching the night with you… the silence of slumber separates us in all things but thought… I am there in that moment of conscious recollection… and there I will stay… alive… in the spiritual side… sweet dreams…

A nice way…
Nice ways are the only way to the end… rough or tough ways end in other ways that are knot as comfortable… what is the porpoise of such ways other then to cause discomfort and what is the porpoise of that? To make one feel what exactly? I am accustom to her face… accustom to her looks… accustom to her being here… and while she dances the floor holds still and watches the grace… the beauty of her movements… a mother’s joy… a father’s delight… Nice ways are the paths to endless flexibility… the many means to the end… I shall take one and find a dream and cast it to the night time stars and maybe I will find me a wish to be granted… maybe I will get that wish, that desire, that passion to fill the void that is forever… sweet dreams…

A book…
A story… enclosed between two beginnings… a set of small snippets of history that were lived… A glance out onto the endless horizon… Many times I have wondered while I sat upon a place about my place in this circle… many times I have wished that I had the words to express the joy, the sorrow the entire breath of what sets itself before me… Most times I have failed to put the words justly to what is before me… many times I will stroll over what I have written and be amazed at the perception that seems to be there and at other times I cringe at my immature nature… It is the artist in me that is never satisfied and sees everything that I write as a work in progress…

Hope stands tallest when we need to hear her voice the most… Desire is the pathway through witch faith wanders… If one has faith in life, in living, in themselves and they hope for the best to occur they will find joy in the simplest of life’s accomplish mints… If one sees with their heart then they will never see anything other then the spirit of another’s intention… If one draws with an artists mind they see what is behind the images that lay before us… I am neither a book of expressions or a book of poetry I am in motion an artist… that uses words to express what life is… and that my friend is what you are also… You need only find your brush…

Happening…
As an artist I believe we are all works of art… As a realist I believe only those who are willing to change do so easily… As a person of some age I realize we change weather we wish to or knot… As a scientist the facts speak for themselves… Having a soul mate is a fact of spiritual development… finding them is an act of fate… Finding them in the expanse of the world is near impossible and yet the impossible becomes possible each and every day… Love begins with a love on oneself you are correct… and the first lesson is acceptance… Accept the dance we are given ad learn the steps before you move on to the next one…and having been the student become the teacher of those who follow… for each life that touches yours is touched by you… each hand that reaches out is grasp in some way… and each heart that speaks is answered in kind… Fate and opportunity knocks… are you listening close enough to hear?

A choice…
We all have free will… to choose as we see fit… We all have that freedom no matter what other freedoms have been taken away from us we have the free will to refuse or to accept… and to make choices in our life…It is from these choices that the pattern of our life takes shape and it is with these choices that we change the patterns of our life… Change the pattern and the outcome changes for us… Easier then we imagined it could be… It is up to us and some of us do keep picking the same, the similar but there are those of us who trod different ways… and it is those ways that yield a brighter tomorrow…it is the process of the search that yields the change that leads one to that one they seek… Remember to seek and you shall find…

The real me…
Is it real or is it Memorex? The real me… Knot as good as the written me… Well in some respects I wood suspect that is true… The off the cuff spur of the moment me is a lot more edgy… The enjoy mint of time… spent wondering… What is hidden behind the veil lends itself to the wondering of the imagination… It you donut know then you imagine what it is… The sound of ones voice… the look of them against the darkness of night… against the glow of the day’s light… The touch of their hand… all lends itself to a wondrous creation… The reality suffers while the imagined just lives on… There are times when reality pales in comparison to the imagined… then there are those instances where reality is the dream… that some one steps directly from your imagination and takes form in reality and they are more… It is rare… but is has happened…

The Carpet…
It really did have to go… it was old… stained… dirty beyond imagination… What with three kids… two dogs and a rather long use filled life of seeing entertain mint… accidents by animal and human… the occasional spill… the oft mentioned plate of food tucked underneath and left for daze… I saw it as a passing of a generation… a bit of life expressed in the faded remnant… A bit of life… history of a home… of a family expressed on the carpets fibers… Dog hare… of the ragged beasts… that we cherish… a wine spill… I remember that… Well that ugly stain that never came out from that night of a house filled with children sick with the stomach flu… after a while not even professional cleaning can get those out… the faded paths we walked… in and out… the crushed crayons… the permanent marks of a child’s dream expressed on the carpets canvas… I feel a need knot to toss it away but to frame it as a living breathing record of our adventures… a scrap book of memories… a time line… As I look at it I wondered what an artist would think… then I knew in my heart that only an artist would understand the imagery of the carpet as a reflection of what happens in a home… Some how I know you will…

A rock…
A place to sit upon and stare out into… A place to let the gifts we have take a side seat… A place to contemplate the wonders of nature… A place to hold ones thoughts in a reflective gaze… A place of solitude or of companionship… A place to hold hands silently or to talk effortlessly of life… to find the joy of tears shed in ecstasy… to shed tears of friendship… of sadness in leaving… in happiness for arriving… A rock over looks… it transcends time… created from the core of the earth and pushed forth one bit at a time over time… it is a place for dreaming… for asking questions of mother earth… It is a place for listening to the answers whispered by the Gods of the four winds… It is a place of beauty… a stone carved from the marching of time across centuries… This place has been here for all time and it will be here for the rest of time… All we can do is alter it… change its texture… A rock is there to remind us of the lasting effects of one strong commitment over time… it is a place of strength… of courage… of lasting love… and support… Seek the rock that fills the voids… and let the creative soul that waits come out to play upon the stone’s face…

Rowing…
Get out and row, row, row… One stroke for each… one paddle for each… One slip of water to navigate… One wish to wonder about… I can knot imagine the effects of such a release of Gods tears… I know that for some it is a natural occurrence on a seasonal basis… The rainy season… the hurricane season… the storm season… What pair of dices these ones live in to risk the fury of the water… We humans are a resilient breed… So take up your paddle… get out and row… Jimmy row…

Slower Progress…
Life challenges… She presents opportunities for flexibility… She renders us into unusual circumstances… and then just when the time is right she fools us… The fickle finger of Fate turns and points directly to us… The progress speeds and slows… speeds up some more and slows down a bit an endless rocking rolling coaster of delights… A transformation of properties from being who I was to being who I am to the being I one day wish I could some how possible be… Shirley I am… or was I once… an ambiguity? Tripped up by my own logical illogical twists… Enjoy the spreading of Joy’s wings…

Long train…
The long train runs silent into the night… A wisp of fresh air follows her… She rolls and rambles in silence for it is within the imagination that she pulls, she tugs, she scrambles… on ward and up ward to the journeys end… Just another day in the life or spark to the flame… Just another shitty day with this pair of dice that revolves about me…Take my hand and lettuce walk a bit… just to be… to speak in minds speak… to let the afternoon sun set silently as we watch the glow fade slowly… the sun rises… from the opposite side… atop a shore filled with possibilities I am sure enough to be unsure… therefore I wonder a lot about many things… Time to read on… time to search for another cure to my trips of fantasy… The grass is greener and it fooled me…The train tuns on and on… taking me to places I would knot travel in my reality… to places I would have over looked… until now… and when it is time… the hand of time will know my hand for I have held it in time and I shall once more… enjoy…

Heart speak…
What one says is knot always what they mean to say… What rests within them pops out on occasion… and on those occasions their heart speaks volumes more then the words they use… The thought of some one other then yourself trips a force… they know as you think of them… and when they realize what it is… they smile… they laugh and they cherish the thoughts…

Building…
We all build homes… some simple, quiet and peace filled… they reflect our present to the world… They are the home to witch we grow accustom to… They are the places we gather in joy and in sorrow… We build them brick upon brick… stone upon stone… they are the essence of who we are… and what we represent to the world… Our home is shared a dwelling that invites friends, family, visitors from the world over… it is the one place we get to be truly the gentle soul that we are…

Gone off…
It was time to go off and do what was and to do so with a gentle smile and a loving hand… Time is a magical element… created in the minds eye it represents a relationship to those around us… Time the magical gift of oneself… is irreplaceable… it invaluable… priceless… and without limits… There is more joy, more wonder in one moment in time then in a thousand other gifts… It is time to be gone off and to sit within the shared wonders of the pair of dice of child… mother… home… new and wondrous adventures to be had… A grand mum for sure…

What’s this?
A second hand… an idea… a cherished more sale? A dill lemon of bib lick call pro portions one too hot… won to cold… and one just write…Perfection is hard to come bye… even though we fig your it is necessary… A lot is just the choice we make… Choose again… ahhh if we only could we wood… by God we wood due the voodoo that we do due so well… We would be danger us…

A spin…
A simple turn around…to land softly or harshly… an altered perspective… what lies are there what truths we tell what foolish nests we build are all exposed from another point of view we are all different then what we believe ourselves to be… We are after all a spin off in the opposite direction… we are knot the path… or the avenue… we are the kindred soul that treads the paths and avenues… we touch the earth and are touch in kind… three times for each… three times for each adventure… take a spin… a turn of events in the opposite direction… I could have fallen… I could have one… I could have been a contender… This is all within the scope of fun… Delight filled the sense illuminate the turns… a rocking… rolling add venture to ones journey… Pick a turn… any spin… of the wheel and joy begins… the dance… the stroll…the relax motion that started it all…

Thoughts…
Varied ideas… a splash of light… a stream of conscious nest… A trickle of sparks that delight the imagination into being… A stream rolling from its source… a scattering of color on a landscape… an artist’s hand… the hand of Time… Fate… Destiny… all touching one another… A thought can generate the most wondrous ideas… Written words create fantasies for the mind, each mind is different so that when we read what is written we form our thoughts into pictures we create the images that our mind takes hold of… we create the wish… the dream from those thoughts… our thoughts and make them what they are… an experience worth having…A building of anticipation finally lived… finally… after all this time… lived… a dream wished for over centuries… or what seems like centuries springs to life… and in that one thought there is magic… the magic of one’s imagination…The beauty created in one’s mind over shadows the wonders of the earth… for it is a mixture of the earth’s natural elegance and the endless possibilities of the mind’s eye… One single thought… created all of this… One spark of delight turned the elements of the earth into this… One fire that caught the imagination generated the light that illuminated this dream… imagine that…

Know won knead no…
The ambiguity hides the truth… The laughter the medicine… the thoughts that transpire… Imagine what it wood bee like to find out… Know one single person knead know the truth… the truth be it told sheds only light to some extent… Knowing more is help full but still know one knead know any more then they do… What has slipped bye… arrived unnoticed and left without so much as a whisper… What arrived was gone as quick… a flash in the course of a life time… One solitary moment in time and then just another wondrous memory forgotten… Once more I can sit and sense time slipping away from me… Know one person knead know the path my life now takes me… no one person needs to know of the joys, the sorrows, the happy nests or the sad nests that make up my exist dance… The humor hides more then the altered view of what life has in store for you… So much of what we have is a dream… Sew much of what we live is a fantasy created in our minds… and so much more is stark reality that holds onto the dreamer… There are times when know needs to know and times when knowledge shared produces results far beyond what is present… A combined joy… a shoulder to carry one on… These are the joys that make edges wise… and turn a child’s head… Know one knead no any more when they look or read… they need only know that a person exists on this side of what is written and nothing more…they need only to read and take in the thoughts, the wishes, the dreams of the writer as they are presented… They knead only to find the humor, the joy, the passing of the human touch from one to the other… They need only share in the magic that trips the delights… that shoulders the burden.,.. that sparks the flame, that ignites the fire, that burns as passion and desire…

One word sometimes springs to life a whole so large that the void it creates defies being filled… One hand touching another can bridge that expanse and bring a wounded heart back… One solitary moment in time erases hours of knot seeing… One look, one sound, one exchange of a look across the expanse of time says what know one knead know… Words know longer need to be spoken, they no longer need to be shared, they no longer need to be exchanged… It is time to move on… to cross the road and look forward to another place and time… The knight looms large… the journey far and there are many miles to tread… One hand touches another and life springs forth… One hand graces another and reasons give rise to other reasons… One hand ignites the passion of another… One hand stirs the mix that reveals the wonders unseen by the blindness we all share… One hand rocks the cradle of our existence… One hand holds us as we wish, we dream and we live… We share that hand one to the other… we are the hands that support… the hands that hold and the hands that reach out to one another… Know one knead know… for I shall knot speak of it… Know one need know for I shall let it go… Know one need know for this is where the words go to cleanse me… Know one need know any more then I am willing to tell them…The ones who can tell know… and the others knead never know… What is whispered on the four winds that rests in your mind’s eye is a dream I had once… I shared that dream… it is a wish I shall carry with me… all the daze of my life… one of the wonders of my existence rests within that dream… A definition of love that altered my life… and created endless possibilities all of witch I have still before me now… The hand that rocks the cradle is fate… The hand that knocks is destiny… the hand that rests upon our shoulders is time… the shoulder we rest upon is the magic that defines our lives…

Know one knead know the truth or the reasons for the truths we hold dear… Know one else knead know the depths of our connection or the time we share… It is written in our hearts and those with eyes will see what is inscribed there… Know one else knead know… The wind whispers to me… the storm of my own emotions has ravaged me… the sea of my own making has swallowed me up and cast my soul adrift… Know one knead know how far or how wide the expanse of time has played on my life… Know one knead know the reason for the solitary, the solitude, the times I spend writing… the desire and the passion I have for it… Know one need to know the muse that fires this creative wonder inside me… In time I will hide it well deep inside me so that the sparks can fly behind the veil and burn hot within the secret holds of my being… Know one knead know the joy… the tears of laughter… the smiles… the light nest of my being… the peace that makes me whole… calm… alive… complete… I am and I am neither… I am just a some one who know one kneads to no…

Passed…
The day passed in a some what silent form… Yesterday was a day like most others… the sun rose… it set… there was time for thought and time for relaxing…The time passed slowly at points… it wandered about while I waited for the time to share… Now it has passed and today is another day just like all the others… yet very different like all the others… We get to create in this moment… the present of now… and before now passes we have the opportunity to create a before now that is worth committing to memory… The silence of tomorrow will linger… the non-action that caused it will stay with me for some time… As it has before… I am knot surprised by it… or angry about it… It makes me wonder… It makes me think… the thought that it takes is minor… so even that was unable to be turned… In all this time that has passed between then and now the exchange of thoughts on these days are the most critical and still there is none… They are forgiven for I donut let on… it is easier to forgive then to allow the ouch to linger for more then a fleeting moment inside me… I do what I do because I wish to do it… and I will stop when I know longer have the need inside me to continue… I miss the opportunity is all… I miss the words on the four winds… the cry in the wilderness and the laughter that turns to tears of joy streaming down cheeks red with happiness… These are times passed… times yet to be… they are not the present of now…

A place…
What is this place that dreams are made of? What is this void where creative minds rest and form wonders for others? Where does the darkness lead? Where does the light at the end of the tunnel lead to? Who is this creature that calls out in the night? When will it be my time? All in good time my pretty… all in good time… The present of now tends to bend the tide a bit… The ability to create a wondrous memory far out reaches the dull nest of a routine… Break the stride… shake the tree… touch… share… wish and dream… this is the place for all these things… the present is now…

Work in progress…
The artist brushes up against the strokes unyielding passion for what is there…the need, know the desire to unveil what is there under the white canvas… One step… one stoke at a time… one blessing after another… bestowed upon the earth… an array of colors for the eye to see, smells for the nose and sensations for the skin to feel from the tingle of desire to the cold hand of death… Each day is another piece to this work in progress… a new color… a new line… a new breath of fresh air in an old stale mind… An experiment of joy… a tear cast… happiness… sorrow lessons learned… as we progress towards… the next piece…

Getting…
Some times we get what we deserve… other times we get what we paid for… There are times we get more then we bargained for… and times when we get just what we asked for… A lot of times we get what we need… other times we get less then we thought… it is rare that we get just what we anticipated… A wish is worth a thousand dreams… for it puts the forces of nature to work on the dream we imagined us exploring… Some times we get what we want… most times we want what we should knot… The allure of what is forbidden…the elusive obvious… the dream that is just out of reach… Some times we get what we wished for only it is exactly what we needed…

Often…
I sit here and fight for the words I want to say… I am often captivated by the ease at witch others write or speak… I am finding it more difficult to articulate my ideas as times goes on… Not so much an age thing as a quick nest sort of thing… Life has seemed to pass me by… I am rather pleased by that prospect… pleased that I have gotten off the speeding train and let the engine pass me by so that I may enjoy the fruits as they are blooming… I will never regret that decision…In all my life I may look back to that one moment and say that it defined my being… I may find that over all I was not as success filled in the ways the world looks at those things… But in what is important to me I have experienced the rising moon and the setting sun… Satisfied…

Spammed…
The files are full of it lately… I have for the most part been able to fend off the pursuers of such useless information… I have a number of accounts… witch I use for different joys… My employers account is filled with Spam… I get Spam every day… It is like the old Monty Python routine… Well what do you have… we have Spam… Spam and Ham… Spam, ham and eggs… We have Spam, Spam and ham… Spam, Spam and eggs… Spam, Spam, Spam and eggs… We have the ever popular… Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam and eggs… Of course I donut get anything but Spam wonderful Spam!

On being an ass whole…
I suspect I have been… on the whole… it is rather unusual that I encounter a number of them on a daily basis… The whole of the ass or ass whole as it is commonly referred to, the last vestige of defense before expulsion…or implosion for that matters to some… A simple rodent game running about… What one can find in an open cavity is a wonder… The arse of the matter… the last behind to enter the place the nose frequented first… There are reasons for the nose and the arse for being on opposite sides of the adventure of life… Being the ass of the matter one is presented with unique opportunities for hindsight that the nose is ignorant of… I suspect that I could be an ass whole of course that is based on some one else’s perspective butt I am sure enough to be unsure and there fore I know that I can be rather ass whole ich… Sew what is this fascination with being one? Everyone has one… they are not unique even to the human race for many an animal has the same avenue of reflection… horse being the other favorite whole people like to reference… Why knot the cow? Or the Bull? The gentle horse is defamed by the insult… These references are all poetic jargon… I am suspect of such words as a horse’s ass is to a bull’s excrement… the last of what once was returned to soil to enrich the lives of so many more… it is all so much bull that can be expounded upon… and sew I put it to rest once more… and sit down upon the arse that cradles the rest of me so very well… The end is the butt of many a joke… the last to arrive… the last to leave… a delightful sight on some and a rather repulsive site on others… on the whole an ass without a porpoise is a whole other place… one should have a porpoise before being an ass… if one needs to be an ass at all… one needs an arse butt one does knot knead to be an arse whole for know reason… I know reason and she is very reasonable…

A measure of success…
A drop of water… a small mist of information… If success is measured in what one has of physical things… My success has been marginal at best… I have stuff… but it is older… I donut take good care of it and I am knot inclined to repair or fix it… Now if it is measured on attitude then I guess I have been a little more success filled… The measure of a person’s success is in how they feel about who they are… nothing more need be said…

Today…
Today… just another day… in many respects it is… A Monday… a working day… a day where there will be deaths, births, anniversaries… celebrations of all sorts… people will go about their business and business will go about taking it’s toll on people… Some will start and some will end their journeys… the majority of us are some where along the lines of the middle… We are living today as any other day… a day in the life… one more day to smile… one more day to laugh… to speak in quiet wonder…

The stars lit the sky… the sun warms the earth… this in a day in my time… in my place… in my memory this is a day worth remembering…an anniversary passes today… one more in a long line of them… I walked this earth uselessly for a time before I saw delight in the every day beauty… the every man qualities of experience… It was a day like today… that a hand took mine and held it close and turned my imagination towards things worth dreaming about…

It is a warm sticky day on the eastern shores of the United States… A day that makes air conditioning worth every penny spent to install it… A day like any other summer day… and like no other… a day among other days and a day that stands out… it all depends on your particular point of view…While I can be rather round about… I speak with a sense of futility… No ones sees what I see… A gift of sorts… a blessing… a curse… an illusion…

A crossroad…
There comes a point in time when we all arrive at a crossroad… in all connections with others… we bring our strengths and our weaknesses… My experience tells me that I am hurt most by those things that are part of my own personality… there are times when we have these days when the journey to no where is apparent… this road leads to no where in particular… it is a path not worth being on nay more now… I ask myself what can I do? The answer is simply that I am unable to do anything… The answer lies within the mind of another… and they simply donut know how… Here I stand… Here at the crossings of time… I have carefully maneuvered this landscape over the times of my life… There is a point when a decision needs to be made… a solid one for the best… I find it more and more difficult to watch… to stand guard… to be within arms reach and outside the realm of aid… to feel the day within me and the measure of my life taken… by how I do this noble of tasks… I have crossed over the edge and started on another journey that will lead me full circle to this point three hundred and sixty-five days from now… It is how my lives are measured… In years… months… days… hours… minutes and seconds… When I am dust there is nothing I shall be remembered for… I am a common man within a common world… doing the joys of the common man… I have reached the cross road and crossed over… some day the phone will ring… a voice will answer and I will be taken back to another time and place… until that time… I will keep on keeping on…

Searches…
After a time we become versed in searching for what we are looking for… This creates a tunnel vision… The perfect idea of what we want limits us to other possibilities that exist in the world because we have filtered out all the other options in search of this one particular option… The beauty of a sale… the charm of a search is in the creation of opportunities to be explored… We can and often do need to reduce the possibilities as we find our way… This is normal and allows us to finally make a reasonable choice…When the search begins though we need to include as much data as we can and be open to as many alternatives before we pare down the options… Color… is a limiting factor that can be added later… style… Price… condition… all play their part… as does age… As we search for what we need, want or desire… the more open we are to other possibilities existing the better chance we have of finding just what we are searching for…

Smiles…
A hand or a comment from out of the know where graces a life… In the second it takes to know a life time of wondering changes… I dreamed of a different hue… I saw it and felt its present in my life all while in the confines of a dream… I heard its voice… saws its eyes upon me… I searched far and wide when awake and finally over time I lost it… The cravings of youth… the illusion of an over active imagination… They these images could not be real and she was by far a dream… She could not exist this one…The hand of fate… the call of destiny… a chance to reach out… a synergy once more brings those forces to bear… It is the smile that we share… the magic… we are part of some thing magical… a once and future mixture of ideas… across continents… across the expanse of time…

The day at hand…
I return today to this day at hand and while I was away I found myself wandering a bit in mind and in body from the normal paths… These divergences added clarity to a cloudy situation within my mind… Now I can get quite deep inside thought and while there lose sight of where I was originally heading off to find… a tangent, a turn, a wanderer by nature I love to go off and explore in silence the activities of my own imagination… I have more then once set off in one direction only to chart an entirely different course within a short period of time… This day was a lazy one having just returned from an exploration of towns, cities, places of higher learning to witch I can say we have returned home… I listened a lot during my wanderings to the language and the cries to stop from the minds of others… I will stop… I shall stop now speaking in minds to them for they wish to be free of such things… and so it shall be as they wish it to be… I am knot hurt by their thoughts… it is part of growing up… I am a bit of a child and at times I donut listen as well as I should… and in those times a good kick in the arse generally sets things straight… or in my case as straight as it can be…so I shall stop… I shall go off and be my own type of individual and who ever walks with me I will walk with and those that choose to follow a different drummer I will applaud and allow them to walk as they see fit to walk…

Being away…
Being away means one has to return from where they were…and upon returning I noticed I was unnoticed in my being away… Now from a particular point of view… mine that is a most interesting outcome… It tells me to go away more often… it tells me to go and get lost more often then knot… I enjoyed being away though I did miss the writing part… I got to reflect a bit and that is what being away is all about… In time I will be away some more… sooner then later…

A flood…
The waters give and the waters take… the ebb and flow of the tides determine so much more then we can imagine… We build walls… barriers to hold the waters back but over time these fortresses are worn down by the constant touch of the waters edge… sharp… penetrating… relentless she pursues what is hers to have and have it she will… The tide will rise… the waters will crest over the barriers and all that we hold dear will be exposed… we the builders will feel the force of nature upon us and then we will know that it is not what we have gathered to us… or collected… it is the grace that we have extended to others that sustains us… There is never enough money or time to do what we dream about… there is only enough time or money to do what we can… and when the opportunity presents itself… grasp it with both hands… the flood only touches you once… if you are lucky enough to hear opportunity knocking answer the door and say yes and invite fate and destiny in to take your hand and lead you to some place magical…

Angry at first…
I was angry at first after reading what was written… I was taken back at the force placed behind the words to stop… After some time I guess the message had knot gotten clearly to me on the one or other occasions that I was told so to be told once more with force was appropriate… I was angry… unjustifiable so… that did knot make the anger any easier… or any less in tense then it was… just made it leave me faster… some what faster then normal… I can be after all a pane in the arse…

Simple beauty…
There is simple beauty in words… some bring the joy of laughter and smiles as they are passed on and on… some trip the lights fantastic and some hit the spot so perfect they are passed on and on… There is simple beauty in some collections of words…and pictures that catch the imagination just rig

An artist’s mind…
Catches the light just so… sees what others miss… experiences the shade as it falls on the earth… runs wild with the imagination… plays with desire, passion and the fires that fuel the passionate interplay… Dances to the tune of a different drummer… Attracts stares and strange glances… jumps into the waters of life completely immersing oneself in the cool refreshing stream… wishes, dreams and hopes… is open to the hand of fate… catches the fancy and is looked upon in awe… is in each one of us…

Drowning…
The rivers of emotions due flow deep… deeper then some see… while others know the depths that emotions can take one… I have seen the heights… the depth is the distance from here to the extent of the reaches of ones own making… As astute person sees more then they let on… a kindred soul feels more in the words then are written on the surface… We are mirrors into the others soul at times we sense and feel what is in their hearts better then they will let on… I am a sentimental and emotional person while on the surface I appear different… I have learned to write to allow an outlet for the emotions that are stirred in me… So much beauty, so many in search of what they already have… So much more to be done… So many lives to touch… so many lives that will touch me… Free falling… climbing up higher and higher still… If this is emotive then let it be so much more… and if I drown… may it be in the arms of this desire, this passion, this love…

A child’s eye view…
So large the world seemed…wide eyed and laughing… ignorant of the challenges… ready to explore with the full extent of one’s being…to be absorbed in the waters of imagination… the colors of the rainbow scattered across the sky and lines having no meanings at all are ignored for the lessons of lines, constraints and limits are yet to be enforced upon our minds… if at all… now we are free to explore the endless limits of our own mind’s reaches… I can fly across the expanse of time… I can call to the other side and hear the voices of those who rest there… The child in me explores the possibilities and allows me the opportunity to see once more what I saw as a child in years… Given half the chance it is worth the debt… to regain the child… the wonder… the creative limitless thoughts…

Dancing…
Every so often it is nice to dance… to let go the imagination and sway to the sounds of the music… to rock, to roll or to just let go ones inner restraints and let the music be your guide… A dance dear lady to rest ones head upon a shoulder and to let the thoughts of today fade into the music… a simple step… soft music… lost in the arms of another… perfection…

The flood…
I donut control the flood of words that escape my mind… I donut have the talent nor do I have the focus to cull and dissect what I say… I just write what pops into my head… be that talented or beautiful or a bit of trash is left for others to judge… I shall never be the judge of what I write… never shall I read what I place here and wonder if it is of any value… the value is in the action not the content… The flood waters of waters… will continue as long as I have the capacity… and then there will be another… There is always another…

A round about way…
You have taken a round about way to find the peace that makes you whole… The void is not from without as much as it is from within and though it may seem an endless bottomless pit of nothing it is nothing of the sort… The peace you seek rests within this well spring of delight… into the darkness you will fall and from the other side you will find the missing elements of joy… the mistaken parts discarded over time and lose the strings that bind you down so that when you open the door the light shines in as well as out… We all take the round about way to find the peace that makes us whole… Some find it in another human being or beings and might they well do so… for when the pieces fall into place they click… a bit of this… a bit of that and then all of a sudden the last peace that pulls it all together once more…the hub that holds the wheel in place… a round about way…

Slipping away…
On the eve of the time when I will fade away… I will slip beneath the covers for a bit… A small amount of time away from this that makes me or defines me… The dweller on the threshold I am… I have waited a long time for this moment and while I can sense its approach I can also sense the need to go… The need to be free at last… for one last time… The angel of the present guides me on… I am lifted up as I cross the burning ground… I have walked this battle field before and slept in these encampments a hundred times… I have walked in the dark Knights path and finding him laid waste to the ties that have bound us together… When my time arrives I will slip away silently into the knight that takes his position without a sound and stands along the watch tower… listening to the song of ages as the dawn ends the knight’s watch… bathing in the waters as the great illusion drowns… I have slipped away from this time and place and found my way to the here and now… I am sure enough of my way to be unsure of how much further I must go before I sleep…

Some miles to go…
On the crest of the new wave… Perched atop the tree it is easy to find a way… easy to foretell the path one must take… A new wave of genius? Over sight brings one a greater tolerance for seeing…Over standing a place grants the visionary some perspective that they normally donut get to have… I have some miles to ride this morrow… some avenues to weave… some path ways to uncover and tread upon… The earth calls for my footsteps… The night for my dreams… another voice screams out… I am alone… a moment of solitude… a moment to collect my thoughts before I venture forth… An exploration process… A ride from the edges of one place to the rim of another… What will we find? What will we trip upon? All these questions and no specific answers…

The opening…
Dawn… a she… a slow rise up from the comforts of sleep… A nudge to begin some thing… a push to move forward with ones life… A gentle reminder of the porpoise that we carry inside us… As much as the blanket of darkness reminds us to rest and recharge our energies… Dawn shakes us from the lure of endless sleep… She opens the doors that line the pathways of our journey… a path set aside for us to trod upon…Each morning as Dawn rises she shimmers across the dew covered grass… to sit upon the gentle slopes as we stumble from our restful slumbers into her waiting arms… We anticipate Dawn’s arrival… we are in awe of her… beauty her…desire… her… passion for change and love for the earth that she is part of… She has graced the world with her present since Time was born… The first Dawn still lingers across the earth endlessly turning running one step behind the Knight… Just out of reach… A split second they mingle and then she is gone on to another place… another moment in time…The day has opened when Dawn passes by… Good morning…

Muddled…
In the between times life glances out from behind the closed doors… In the between times the sun shines over head… adding heat to the earth in layers upon layers… Thick humid air wraps itself about ones exist dance and carries you off… A cool dip in the muddled waters of ones summer time reflections… A crisp reawakening of times spent walking about in the green trees, along the ocean shores… across the great divide that separates the child from the man they became… a one way walk forward… a one way ticket to the other side of madness… for it is all madness and lunacy that exists… The muddled waters cool the emotions and send ripples of ideas out to rest ones mind… to spark new ideas or to gentle rock one to restful slumber… set adrift they will carry you home…

Canvas…
An empty canvas calls… a writers dream… a painters calling… a blending of ideas scrolled out across time and space… landing as they will in the mind of a creative soul to be transformed on to paper… with pen, pencil, brush… a rainbow of ideas colored in original thought… The canvas filled another unfolds to be sprayed with ideas… imaginative splattering of letters… dancing across ones mind…The joy of creativity flowing… escaping the confines, the limitations that hold us… It is nice to be free… free… free… to fill the canvas how I wish… how I dream… it is wonder filled… to wade in the waters of my own imagination and let the wishes and dreams of my existence dance slow across my mind… Dance with me…

Turning over…
Any stone can be over turned… any sentence can be revealed to mean other then it speaks on the outside… Any smile can reveal a mystery below the surface… A turn over reveals what is there but knot what is inside… what is inside is revealed only by the art… what is, is revealed by the artist brush, the writers pen, the athletes skills, the creative mind of the genius of one… it is however on the other side knot revealed easily or openly…the door way to the other side is within reach… it swings both ways and one need open their hidden secrets to peer into the realm of another’s imagination… another’s genius…

A quiet side…
She has a quiet side… one that turns away… one that hides the softness. The gentleness of her touch… She has a creative artists love of words… a spirit to explore and be explored… She has survived the trials and walked the path less traveled to arrive at a place less explored… Others have walked before her… others will trod the path after her and others walk the path with her… She is elusive… in her dreams and sheds light only to her quiet side… where she hides… where she goes to find solace… solitude… or gentle hands to hold her… She is magic…a muse… the subject of dreams and fantasies of another’s mind… she is aware of his gaze… and she hides… a retreat to her quiet side… to sit… to wait… to wish…

Meditation…
I often slip into a dream… a warm wish of sorts… to alter ones perspective of time, place, the mysteries of existence dancing about me… I slip further inside my mind to rest upon a stone… a seat… a place of my learning more… Spirited away on the wings of a dream within the mist of unclear sights she speaks… Her eyes peering out… a mirror to her soul holds me… and I am lost within the words she speaks as I fall deeper still into the wonders of my own imagination… opened door by door to others realities, other possibilities, other opportunities that I was blind to… for nothing is impossible here… nothing… and I sit upon this stone in her arms looking into her eyes and I am lost within me for daze at a time…

Getting along…
I wander a lot… I tend to get off the path of the well traveled on more then one occasion… A preoccupation with me… A need almost to sway off course to find myself lost for a bit of time…I am getting a long way off my normal track… and having found a new track to reside in I can go along on that one for a time before I find it necessary to deviate from that one also… I have a need for separation… a need for space that transcends time… It happens when it happens… although forces can come into play that speed or slow the process it seems to rest when the proper time comes along… I am getting along now with time… I have had times when time and I didn’t see eye to eye on what was best in my life… Time always won those arguments… Time heals old wounds when love is applied generously and even when it is applied to ones own self it heals the hurt… I wander a lot in the out side confines of my place in history… It really is a dream this life I am leading… I get away from it all to be swallowed up in after thoughts on the back of the ones who actually do some thing of value for a living… I am getting along with time now better then I ever did… He has his effects on me and I seem knot to notice his passing as much… I am content to wonder as I wander about… I am content to bring smiles to the lips of my friends… my family and those that I hold close in my heart where ever they may reside…

Thought…
A single solitary thought… generates a force strong enough to bring into being an idea that when mixed with elements of the earth becomes a reality… Thought being a force of equal and opposite reactive abilities generates shock waves as ideas splatter about… a twinkling of delights… one man’s thoughts is another man’s prison… as easily as one is said to have conjured up a surprise then a surprise is conjured up on them… The gallery shouts as the artist as a portrait of a man smiles… all from one thought… all from one solitary thought…

A little some thing…
A little some thing was missing from the morning air… A little some thing was absent from my thoughts… A little some thing that happened upon another’s glance… A little some thing has wandered away from my grasp… A little something has appeared further on down the line… A little some thing has slipped and fallen out of sight… A little some thing has gone and faded into the Knight… A little some thing that was so perfect… so right… A little some thing has passed me by and I wonder just what this little bit of some thing was… I wonder… I hear every so often of a simple twist of fate… a quirk… a lark… a slightly odd occurrence… That little some thing that makes my every things work better has gone missing… Knot so much missing… it has gone off to some where else more important for it to be…

A nice note from some where else…
I received this in the male and while I am knot one for passing on male I did like this note so I will place it here for all those who wish to read and enjoy…

What I’ve learned…
That the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person…
That when you are in love, it shows…
That just one person saying to me, “you’ve made my day!” makes my day…
That having a child fall asleep in your arms is one of the most peaceful feelings in the world…
That being kind is more important then being right…
That you should never say “no” to a gift from a child…
That no matter how serious you life requires you to be, everyone needs a friend to act goofy with…
That some times all a person needs is a hand to hold and a heart to understand…
That simple walks with my father around the block on a summer night when I was a child did wonders for me as an adult…
That life is like a roll of toilet paper… The closer you get to the end the faster it goes…
That money doesn’t buy class…
That it’s those small daily happenings that make life so spectacular…
That under everyone’s hard shell is someone who wants to be appreciated and loved…
That to ignore the facts does not change the facts…
That when you plan to get even with some one you are only letting that person continue to hurt you…
That love, not time heals all wounds…
That the easiest way for me to grow as a person is to surround myself with people smarter then I am…
That everyone you meet deserves to be greeted with a smile…
That life is tough but I’m tougher…
That opportunities are never lost… some one will take the ones you miss…
That when you harbor bitterness, happiness will dock elsewhere…
That I wish I had told my dad that I love him one more time before he passed away…
That one should keep his words soft and tender, because tomorrow he may have to eat them…
That a smile is an inexpensive way to improve your looks…
That I can’t choose how I feel but I can choose what I do about it…
That everyone wants to live life on the mountaintop but all the happiness and growth occurs while climbing it…
That it is best to give advice in only two circumstances, when it is requested and when it is a life threatening situation…
That the less time I have to work with the more things I get done…
That you are my friend and I am honored…

Adding to the pile…
I had hoped, maybe even prayed for some thing… I was disappointed in the response… Since so many have wandered away I suspect that it is more me then them… Maybe my life is more of a roller coaster ride of emotions then I let on… Maybe one day I will wake up and finding myself alone I will see… what I had all along and lost… Maybe some day I will wake up… to the light that illuminated my soul… The pile only gets bigger never smaller… Each day adds a bit of dirt to it… It stretches as far as the eyes can see and then some more from the beginning of time till the ends of the world as we know it… I hoped… that the eternal desire would bring a little some thing more… but then the fact is they deserve more then I can bring forth… They deserve more then I have within me… the well spring inside me is drying up… I am less then I thought possible and now I see the truth in who I am… it may be time to just do what I have thought of all along…

The rose…
One petal… one stem… one thorn… one flower the color of a cloud… pure… A peach tint… red being left for the passion that flowers bring out… A rose rests upon the pillow… a signal that time has changed and life has changed with that time… I was once a more educated man then I am right now… I was smarter then I am now… I was a different person… more in control of my life and the lives of those I loved… I kept it all inside me… Over time I learned that a single rose can do more to comfort a heart then a thousand words… That a single thought each day expressed by a mail does more for a person then the occasional word of encouragement… I have learned that to believe in some one is to have pride in who they are… To care requires one to know in their heart that it is worth caring about… The one rose rests within a person’s heart… there is know way around its beauty or its thorn… both beauty and the ability to cut like a knife… a double edged sword…Restless I am… in these times… as fate takes me to some where else… I wonder if I should have been here at all… then the rose speaks and it all makes perfect sense…

Getting off the train…
Every now and again one should step off the train… it is good to ease back away from the edge… In a few days I will get the chance to run the gauntlet of activities from here to there… and then back once more… The timing is interesting as we will pass right by the edges of the extreme and return the next day to the place we were just the day before… The train will pull to a stop on the curb side and I will get out and at that point I will know more… The pleasures of this trip will dictate to the oldest of my children the limits of their travels as it pertains to educating themselves… A lot of what goes on is up to the student… the teacher… we all our to each other… A simple man I am… I need to get off for a rest…

The ease at witch we run…
The long train runs south… a long endless expanse stretches out before our eyes… we seek the adventure… we seek the truth of what we wish for… we wander in the park… surf the waves of the great lakes… listen to the snow fall… the rain whip… the endless sky open and pour the remains of the day down about us… We can see the sky… the earth, the moon, the stars… it is the end of time… the beginning of time… the middle of time… all relative to one another… the cause is the effect… the end being the means at witch we ride on… Are you listening to the words spoken or are they floating endlessly out… Some listen… some hear… some question… some just respond… and some are lucky enough to get it for their hearts are the fertile ground unto witch the words fall…Easy goes the machine… slow moves the handles… a gentle nudge forward… a repetition of sounds… calling out across the great lakes of our dreams… they seem so real and like the fingers flickering with light they populate the lands… of many lakes… the land of many rivers… the land of water…

The end of another beginning…
Close to the end… close to the edge… about to cross over… A memory stops me… A picture perfect inside… the end is near I can sense it… I can feel the grasp of my own desperation in holding on… I let go and contrary to thought I did not slip away… I stood my own ground… stone cold and straight… The end arrived peace fully aware I was of the moment as they stepped over…She never did real eyes what the porpoise of all this was… She never did feel the intense need to have the friend… the lover was her concern… I wish you peace… the peace you so deserve… The end of a stage… the end of a start… the end of the rode… paved and flat and the beginning of a new one curved and slopping off into the distance… I may actually have to play at this one… I may actually have to get some thing done…

Left alone once more…
Of all things… of all that life has to offer solitude is not one that I desire now that I am older… I used to wish to be left alone… to be able to go off on my own to search for the elusive obvious… Now I am more of a specter on the edge of reality… I will always be two… I shall never be one with any one more then I am with you… a twist of fate… a simple twist of fate brought about that recognition… I am left alone so much now that I a drift in the sea of my own dreams… I know the change is before me… The illusion will know longer be there… I will visit the land of your birth and knot see you… for it will knot be necessary to reconnect… The time has arrived to walk separate ways… and while I am close I shall always be at arms length… even if we have in mind or past lives the distance grows stronger… the expanse of time hides once more the intensity of the magic… it was used for its porpoise and now it shall be put away so that another can find the secrets that dwell within… I will be left to my own ingenious art to search for a new way… Alone I am most creative… most annoying but also most creative in mind, body and spirit… I will twist fate a few more times in my life…

The anniversary…
I wonder… if this one will pass without a nod… I will arrive here and wonder in my heart if any one will know the meaning of the day… I can grasp the achieve mint and swallow hard the ages that survive in the memories… I wonder if the gift of thought will be enough… I wonder in my heart if your voice will lift me as high as it used to… It is a wonder…

A few days more… one has to plan such things for they donut just pop up in the delight of the noon day sun… They take time… care filled observations… a knowledge of the route one must take and the obstacles one may find along the way… So another anniversary follows me… another day to celebrate…a reason to wonder… to ponder my existence… my mile stoned in life… My way… my impact on reality and my wishes, hopes and dreams… Another day to sit in wonder of what has become of me… Another day to create a memory… I wonder if the voice inside my head will call out and take hold of me… I wonder if the day holds any significance to any one other then me… in truth the significance others would put on the day would be higher then any I would put on the day…