Mercy, mercy me…
Mercy, mercy me… We were Long Island ice teas and long talks. We were free-climbers of the free mountains and we loved dancing with the Pacific. You were the most beautiful woman, I… Continue reading
Mercy, mercy me… We were Long Island ice teas and long talks. We were free-climbers of the free mountains and we loved dancing with the Pacific. You were the most beautiful woman, I… Continue reading
Scarborough fair… I once dance with the prettiest gal at the Scarborough fair. I told her, I wanted to marry her and to make her smile every day of her life. She smiled… Continue reading
Beatrice Marcella, my Winter storm… Dante’s Beatrice left him to swim in the misery of so close and so far away. She allowed him to travel to hell and back to find her.… Continue reading
Just words. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Love is life, life is love.? I have always loved the barefoot girls, shoeless girls can feel the sand or the grassy open fields with their tender… Continue reading
April morning… The days of May are coming Kind earth is alive and we must become the people of the sun. The fire are burning and grandfathers must become the story tellers by… Continue reading
“A Native American tale I was taught and I teach my grandchildren. The Nightingale song.. The Ojibwa grandfather… Continue reading
The fingerprints… I washed the blankets and I washed the sheets. I opened the Window wide and the damn cold air awoke my memory of you. On a September night in the Fall,… Continue reading
The poet and the artist.. A poet and a artist sitting by Santa Cruz boardwalk drinking coffee and chasing conversation. The morning was perfect, the sea was calm and the coffee was strong.… Continue reading