Expect the sun to rise
and it will not.
Ignore it, and it
comes to you willingly
crying sun drops…
wanting cloudlings to
hide its loneliness.
Wait only for the one
who waits for you
which is you, waiting
endlessly waiting
for you
you waiting
forever waiting
waiting
without
a magazine.
——
shell songs take the cake
when it comes to the
sands of time…
waves join me in
their melodies
taking me ever
further into
night…
while the
cat
says
no
——
Reminders come and go,
as I wait and see.
The drift of days comes
to me like ice
on a sunny day.
Welcomed and new,
refreshing the warm
and tired and
flashing my
soul mouth with awakes.
—–
point arena beach, by mick paul
…sometimes words
separate…
tear apart… say
wrong thing when
you know it’s right….
but tonite the words are
just right
and originate from
the heart of my being…
tied to the sky….
silver threads
to angels
and the clouds
…..
…the bird sits
in the tree
trilling to the sky
and not
to me…
She lives now
for herself
and i believe
she has a point…
Life is a pie.
Not a berry, not a peach,
not a cherry out of reach.
Eat it up quickly,
saving some for midnight
when time stands still,
and shadows wait to
eat you up.
Green leaf vines
climb ever taller,
ever up, ever
seeking sun and solace.
Do they have a need
to be taller than
anyone else, or
do they just
love the sky….
the mesmerized moon
swings circles
round rainbow clouds
seeds cradled in their nests
wonder what time it is
asking the raindrops
which way… which way
Dog symphonies staccato the landscape,
while lawns are trimmed
and chickens call to rest.
Tonite the quiet rules, and
moon makes magic while I sleep.
“These are the little things that make life so good.
The simple little things.
One must live life this way each day.
And then, when you die, everyone else is crying…but
you have a permanent grin on your face, forever. ”
…Alcir
notesfromthelovewars 