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The Winter's Wood

The wood is here
For our mid winters heat
Piled off to the side
Of the woodshed,
Fresh from the truck
The scent is tantalizing
With the musky scent of oak
and the sweet smell of maple
Coming from the heat of the sun
As the wood continues to dry
As I move the wood to
Its stack in the shed
I also detect the fruitiness
Of some apple
Buried in there
As I pick up each piece
I reflect, that twice
It will heat me
Once as I carry it
And once when to the stove it goes.

Brownian motion writ large...

within small medium
as light brainstorm doth
hail forth the following poem.

Across the realm of gray matter
slowly percolating within tissue
composed of neuronal, glial
and endothelial cells, and although
there must be biological rules
that determine the numbers
of cells of each subtype
and the volumes (or masses)
occupied by them,
little is known about such rules,
if they indeed exist

Leaders Aura

As I tune my mind to your aura vibration,
Thoughts flow between us from deep inside,
Emotions surface in pure loving elation,
As we speak from where our souls reside.

I feel the sorrows that you have endured,
Before you speak their reality in words,
I unlock the beauty in your heart so pure,
And through our love our pains are cured.

We talk of the inspirations of our ambitions,
As we spend the night in each others arms,
Enthralled to complete another spiritual mission,
To save the human race from evil and harm.

Leaders Aura

As I tune my mind to your aura vibration,
Thoughts flow between us from deep inside,
Emotions surface in pure loving elation,
As we speak from where our souls reside.

I feel the sorrows that you have endured,
Before you speak their reality in words,
I unlock the beauty in your heart so pure,
And through our love our pains are cured.

We talk of the inspirations of our ambitions,
As we spend the night in each others arms,
Enthralled to complete another spiritual mission,
To save the human race from evil and harm.

A WORLD OF INDIFFERENCE

Fires rage across the globe
In places we never thought would burn,
The forests and the plains afire
Yet we still refuse to learn.

The ice fields and the glaciers
Before our eyes do melt,
Frozen sentinels of an ancient age
Victims of the hands of fate we dealt.

Tropical storms and hurricanes
Where we've never seen before,
Blow their evil winds of sorrow
In places we never may restore.

I Imagine

In her late-eighties, it was time.
Time to be done with beautiful things
she’d gathered over a lifetime.

It’s been easier to let them go
than she thought it might be.
All the lovely talismans
against the fading of memories.

I imagine conversations she’s had, explaining to these objects
why she’s cutting the delicate binds that kept them there
all these years, on dusty shelves and windowsills.

CONSCIENCE

Beneath the stars that light up the night sky,
There's a place inside us where truths lie,
It's like a small room within our heart,
Where we decide what's wrong or right from the start.

It's like a little lamp that sells our sale,
Helping us see what's star or stale
It winks to us softly, like a quiet song,
Helping us know where we belong.

Always Hope

There is beauty in every life
There's joy in every strife
There's light in the darkness
Pain can be turned into bliss

When you're in the pouring rain
When the noise drives you insane
When you can't hear over the tears
When life preys upon your fears

There will be days you want to quit
When you can't handle another hit
When you're at the end of your rope
Just remember, there is Always Hope

Mirror Mirror

Mirror mirror on the wall,
Tell me who will win the war.
Is it me or is it she?
Whose the dirtiest pretty of them all?

Does he taste me on her lips?
A flavor he soon won't forget.
Does he miss the thrust of my hips?
His little rhythmic silhouette.

I've heard his hopes and dreams,
The nightmares that make him scream.
It wasn't her he was calling,
To stop his world from falling.

Tell me magic mirror!
What do you see?
I am not the better woman here
She best not mess with me!

The following crafted
approximately midway
into the administration
of forty fifth president,
whose crass, gutsy, lewd,
repulsive yawping finds
him squarely poised to
nab the nomination as
Republican front runner
come the 2024 election.

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