THE FAILFORD FALLS

If by the River Ayr you stroll, from Mauchline to Mossblown
And winter light is fading fast, you might wish you'd stayed at home
But if it is the 29th of February (Leap Year)
You may hear a noise, like great Neptune's voice,
As Failford village nears.

The most joy I ever had
Sharing ideas, experiences
Those help others where they're weak
Poets’ young, young at heart
Beginner, intermediate, advanced
Sharpen creative writing skills

I lie in my bed, tired
Feeling pangs of trials, hard hitting
Heat flares in my flesh
I take a break often, closing my eyes
Weary from pain controlling my life
My joy soars, excelling my inner peace

One thing for certain... I know

That I don't know...
but archives someday will be unearthed
and
when I get the Nobel,
some guy will say
He/She edited it,
so goes my Nobel
As it is.
Archives or none
let's all have some fun.
Humor is the spice of life,
given by God not to critiques
but jokers of a circus
who we all know
are the qualified ones

So am I in the run…

what bucket must I carry?
to properly contain
all those caring
for my soul?
a soul I am assured
is nothing more
than metaphor
this practice
of asking me
what I believe
only to seek
a strategy of approach
to poke holes
In what others subscribe to
or choose not to devote to
is rather contrived
hold on a minute
does that negate my eternity?
Indeed!
in the Here and Now
I am ready to die
when that moment comes
rest assured I accept Nothing
but DMT