“A Poets Opus”

"Mountains made of glass and steel Glistening in the bright warm sun Frame the shallow valley of streets Though which rivers of black asphalt run Forests of electric and telephone poles Entangled..."

"The path in the wood of my own making Winding among old broken stone fences Shaded by black walnut and mulberry trees Down by small branch of Popcorn creek Where wild turkey, deer and squirrel Perhap..."

"The old poet spends each evening Sitting on the front porch swing Swaying gently to and fro Constant rhythmic motion Followed by brief pauses As if composing one last poem His hands crippled by arthri..."

"The passion of a poet Burns brighter than a flame The flame has no heart At least none it can name The love of a poet Grows higher than the sky For the sky has a limit And raindrop tears to cry The ..."

"I may live a thousand lifetimesPerhaps I’ll live a thousand moreBut this love we have togetherI’ve known some time beforeTime wears dark glassesThrough which I can not seeYet in my heart I still knowT..."

"Amidst the tangle of trumpet vines,Young saplings and half rotted stumpsWhere buffalo grass is near head highAn old stone foundation silently restsIt bore the full weight for many yearsAn unpainted wo..."