Monthly Archive: August, 2020

Recollection….

Recollections   ————————————————————————————————————————- Kellie….     I was intoxicated by you. My beautiful dark eyes muse, you made me beg for seconds of time, to be near you. You were a wild spirit… Continue reading

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Hope and Hate

Originally posted on CTwelve:
A piece of youBecame a partOf meBut then you lost That piece of youI lovedAnother youReplaced the oldGoodbyeNever the sameMy piece of youHas died  You startedA warWhy are you Surprised That peopleHave…

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The King is a Woman

Originally posted on Memoirs of Alexander:
Lights. Camera. Wool socks and silk undergarment A whiff of Autumn from low hanging clouds Hot tea in the mid morning Wet drops of rain hanging on…

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My home is Northern Michigan….

My home is Northern Michigan I sat by the Cherry trees of Michigan in Northern Michigan and I remembered a good friend. We were not young, we were serving in the Army. 25… Continue reading

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The silence and the sea….

The silence and the sea A Poem by Coyote Poetry A re-write. The silence and the sea     Blessed is the man who knew regret and he learn from it. Lucky is the… Continue reading

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The dance of the flowers..

The dance of the flowers A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words. The dance of the flowers.           My dear and sweet love, please come walk with me. My dearest… Continue reading

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Last days of August

Last days of August   Summer, almost done. School shall be starting soon. The days of Fall are near. Let’s enjoy the closing days of August. One more beach day, one more day… Continue reading

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Soul Lessons

Originally posted on An Obvious Oblivion Blog:
There is no finish line. Nothing ever really ends until the death. However, what we mostly tend to forget while fighting our sufferings hard is that…

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The Coyote is dancing…..

 The Coyote is dancing Once, locked-up man knew the solace  and the mercy of the kind lakes. Once, the free man danced with the stars and the moon. In the mist of the… Continue reading

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La ballerina

Originally posted on marcellocomitini:
Nina Captsova (immagine mia) Nelle luci che si spengonoi fregi d’oro alle paretile tante braccia del lampadario di cristallosi trasformano in piombo e gessoSi acquieta il brusio delle voci.Gli…

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