A Leonard Cohen “Sunday”.
Dear Leonard Cohen. I still remember the Poet of the song. Your sweet words are still alive and well. In the midnight hours. You are with me when I write my secret words… Continue reading
Dear Leonard Cohen. I still remember the Poet of the song. Your sweet words are still alive and well. In the midnight hours. You are with me when I write my secret words… Continue reading
Originally posted on Flicker of Thoughts:
She packed two silk dresses andseven different red lipstickscaught the midnight trainto Paris The rhythm of train lulled her to the memory of yesterdays She was cut…
Poetry for the Pacific 1—–I love to hear the orchestra of the Pacific ocean.. The choir of the moving water, the hymn of the crashing waves and if we listen, maybe we can hear… Continue reading
Teach hate or teach love? A Poem by Coyote Poetry A election is coming. It is time to change our world. When we teach our children love and hate in the same conversation. Did… Continue reading
Can you catch a falling leaf? The days of October are here and I did the greatest sin. I returned to a place of magic trying to find the scent of yesterday. Time… Continue reading
I could not ask for more… I told my grandchildren, choose the road you love, dance, sing and be fearless. I learn many moons ago, I had enough and I told the rising… Continue reading
Two steps from hell- A secret melody.. He told the pretty British girl in the city of London. There is consequences for every action, we do. The fatality of youth, we believe. We… Continue reading
If I could turn back time, I would….. I called beautiful Brigitte at 3 am and I awoke her up in Böblingen in the early Fall of 1981, Germany. She answered with a gentle and… Continue reading
Andrea.. I remembered dear Andrea. A lovely Michigan gal, once was kind to my young heart. I wrote into a notebook. “Time has pass us by, old wounds don’t hurt so badly. Old… Continue reading
My eyes adored you.. I learn we are made of places and pieces. We are a puzzle being built slowly by time and memories. Old men think too much and the what if?… Continue reading