Abundance In my abundance I come to you. In my abundance, I love you. This love shackles you not nor binds you tightly in chains. It gives you freedom to soar where your spirit wills and in the same abundance finds you winging back to me. Run quickly from a love which possesses by need.…

The Plough Sits In The Field There was a time, however brief, when the unthinkable was avoided at all costs and the unworkable was left by the side of the road. Nowhere could we say that the heart was not involved; but lost on us all were reasons. Now we wait. The plough sits in…

Advanced Technology Cry,  if you will but not for long. Tears dampen the pillow and confine the cold to the head. Gone the days when romantic tears were touched and dried by the corner of a linen. Today’s  tears are great gulps wrenched from the gut; testifying to a technology that bigger is better. A…

I Come Bearing Gifts I come bearing gifts, an open heart, an open mind and open arms. Love is the currency used to procure these. Yours given unsparingly and mine given in gratitude for  the constancy of a similar heart.     art by Claudia Hallissey

The Heavens Watch The heavens watch and poignantly feel what plagues me. They say my presence here in this space I inhabit is a necessary one. They would tell me more but I would laugh, not with mirth but sarcasm they think, and would make the blood of the earth curdle. I have touched a…

Down Off She watched her love come from the best of all places. Taking with him extra bags, yet, he arrived alone. And as he came, he swung his legs and jumped down off. She carried with her extra baggage, but looking at him coming to, eager,  fresh to forget, she too would arrive alone…

Because Because I have memories and carry pictures with no putting place in this my time. . . . Because I have memories of worlds I cannot see next door to where I am. . . . . Because I have memories of love once having been given. . . . without needing to prove…

Greenfield Village,   A Walk Into The Past This time now,  the hay no longer lifts the roof of the standing barn. No longer piled loose and pitched with forks as high as the man can stand. It still creases the nose with aromatic exhilaration. Standing now are the bales neatly tucked one upon the other, …

Contemplation (the soul’s Mt.  Everest) After taking the garbage to the curb in early dawn, I stopped  to look about and thought,  I know more about what goes on than I would dare reveal. But furthermore,  who would say I was right? Who would not deny whatever I would say? Who of us has courage…