It’s okay….
It’s okay. (April poetry number twenty-nine.) Last day of April, my friend. My Michigan feeling the Spring warm day kiss finally. I am listening to beautiful Nightbirde songs and the grandchildren still sleeping.… Continue reading
It’s okay. (April poetry number twenty-nine.) Last day of April, my friend. My Michigan feeling the Spring warm day kiss finally. I am listening to beautiful Nightbirde songs and the grandchildren still sleeping.… Continue reading
The Coyote and Raven dance… The coyote was dancing for the half-moon, he moved and weaved into the deep forest and he knew. His beautiful friend was watching him celebrate the night. The… Continue reading
We don’t want to fight no-more….. Once brave boy believed war would save our world. The brave boy became a man. He fought for a Government who would forget him after the battles… Continue reading
The twisted dance of love… (Written in 1988) I lay beside you in the night of the Germany December.I feel the heat of tender flesh and I look into your blue eyes.They shine… Continue reading
Fallen Angels… In the lair of the fallen angels. Old men talk of fleeing love, old war and missed faces. I joined the club at a young age. Bad decisions, dead brothers and… 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
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