Three little poems.
1- A Summer day… The birds were singing near me. Lake St. Clair was alive and dancing for the children. The sun-kissed my face and I told the Goddess of the lake. Thank… Continue reading
1- A Summer day… The birds were singing near me. Lake St. Clair was alive and dancing for the children. The sun-kissed my face and I told the Goddess of the lake. Thank… Continue reading
The valley of the gun… 1- Is death sweet? Do we go easily into the final sleep? Without struggle. Do the dead cities talk? They do. They are killing women and children in… Continue reading
Maybe Florence, maybe Basel? Once beautiful Swiss gal befriended me in the late Spring of 1979. We met in London and she told me. London is okay, but Florence in the month of… Continue reading
Into the west, I go… Westward bound winds are calling my name and the Pacific ocean is whispering to me. Please Johnnie, please come dance with me, I am waiting for you. I… Continue reading
“Sweet Molly, Sweet Molly Malone I can see if you smile, Though I’m off half a mile, For my eyes all the while, Keep along with my head, And my head on must know, When from Molly… Continue reading