One night I was walking in the woods,
It was blustery and cold,
I was the night the Whisper came,
And this story must be told.

At first I thought it was the wind,
Blowing in the trees,
Then I heard the slightest voice,
Flowing through the breeze.

I felt warm breath around my neck,
Then it crept up to my ear,
The voice I heard was soft and sweet,
But It filled me up with fear.

Oh! How can I forget your face
The tenderness, of your embrace
Your precious smile your gentle kiss
These things, I know, I’ll always miss
The way you’d squeeze and hold me tight
And making love all through the night
The way you’d talk the whole day long
Or sing some sad old country song
The times we had, and we had some
But sadly now the time has come
For this will be our final parting
But I won’t miss your constant farting

Today after years
a Swedish Nordic poet
was awarded
the NOBEL

Someday when in the bushels of time ,
we surface more simpler than naive
perhaps our faces shall reveal ,
the purpose of mankind
....hopefully...................

choice words

Can you dream up a wind or be seen by a sound?
Does your heart count it’s beats, is that which is not ever found?

Strange though they seem these questions are asked
From the depth of a dream with a fact that is tasked.

Will the willow stop bending be the straightest of trees?
Is there no happy ending though we try to appease?

Can you ask of a child what is not known to man?
Do young minds remain wild while ours work to a plan?