It all started one lovely May.
The sun there wove a golden way,
the stars, the moon in no delay
begged us a hey, begged us a hey.

We thought we'd have our life-for long
to play tunes that never go wrong.
A stream of passion keeps along
with every song, with every song.

We were words, those printed to hold
a story written deep in gold.
Yet misty shadows blew to fold
a tale been told, a tale been told

Come forth
bow down in repentance
Forgiveness is given
for your resistance

Forsake me no more by devotion
creating this shadow
Degrading explosion

Revolting acts led
by the sickness of greed
but to succeed, please believe,
he with faith in Our Father
shall achieve

Take heed, my lost children
for the future has been declared
verified by our past, we wont last,
Now is the time to get prepared

Your words mean more, I know the score
You spoke to me of love and trust,
Then took my heart and made it burst
It hurt me so, It hurt me so

Now can you talk to me of love?
We both now know that love will die,
If trust of each is built on lies
I need to know, I need to know

I will await your words in truth
We need to work for better days
In that our love is safe always.
A truth is told, a truth is told

I'm
not
goddess
Demeter
or Persephone
but I sow thoughts where summers tread
then the sunshine would bathe them warm to grow endlessly.

Look it’s my turn to steer this ship.
The rest of you sick bastards line the sides
I don’t want your sick, to rot the timbers.

Who the hell do you think you are then?
The captain of a boat, sorry of a ship?
Where did you get that funny hat from?

Shut up, cant you both feel the love rage
It is ours to share but not to own
I shall love you both no matter what

You are such a stupid idiot
There is only supposed to be us three
Who are all these others?

Glass poetry

Autumn harsh an omen carried
Lively growth claws out through green grass
earth grows armour we have buried
for winter's screech and snowy brass

There above you see the meaning
and feel the vacancy of freeze
words suggest but go careening
What better use have we for these?

The higher truths the artists seek
are bound in metaphors' dark sheet
for reasons known when poets speak
the rift of mind to hand to beat

With all the meaning sensory
Mere words become illusory

Ron

It has been more than just a while
since last a sonnet left my pen
and though to me they are a trial
I'll grit my teeth and try again

Eight syllables in every line
makes for bit stilted poem----
Dang! That is seven, it's not eight
can make for a bit stilted poem

I meant to make this about love
how it can bloom in any heart
a true gift sent from heaven above
wait.... but that's nine syllables

Eyes snap awake in strange dark room
skin covered with a stale cold sweat
whose stench spreads in a rancid plume
among the bedclothes soaking wet

Closed window admits clear moon light
confirming I don't know where the hell I am
Or who is sleeping to my right
it surely isn't my wife Pam

i try to clear my mind's morass
by both slapping and shaking my head
which fails to align my compass
i slowly sit up in the bed

The world is round
and spinning,
round and round
and tilting
at an awkward angle.

Retching over the side
while watching good mates
take the blue,

a wave comes crashing,
storms start calling,
and then,

the world is flat
and uninspiring;
hot and humid
in the doldrums.

Afternoons
are long and weary
and the night
brings no respite.

Naught is felt
of wind and rain;
this silence will
drive us insane.

Come forth bow
down in repentance
Forgiveness is given
for your resistance

Forsake me no more
by devotion creating
this shadow
Degrading explosion

Revolting acts led by
the sickness of greed but
to succeed, please believe, he
with faith in Our Father
shall achieve