Dirty little secrets..
Dirty little secrets.. I watched the moon rise and the sun run away and I remember ‘ You and I’. I’m the dancing moon whispering words of love to you as we pass… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
My darkest days..
My darkest days Winter of 1992 was holding on and I was hiding out on Highway one. I brought the vodka and pineapple juice to Big Sur. Me and my soldier friend Robert… Continue reading
One angel knows my name.. Remembering Joey Feek.
“Three fingers of Tequila One finger for the cancer, one finger for the poison they send pouring through your vein one finger for the preacher cause I don’t believe the Jesus that who… Continue reading
Can we survive crazy? Three little poems..
1- I loved the hard climb, the untouched path. I listen for the flowing river and I go to her. Rarely do I see people. I sit with the trees, the free animals… Continue reading
The sweetest gal..
The sweetest gal.. I brought the most beautiful girl near and I raised my glass to the sky in the dark tavern. I said aloud. “Drink to you, drink to me and drink… Continue reading
Fool’s gold…
Fool’s gold.. Once we held hands and we talks of the great escape. We drank expresso coffee and we walked on the Monterey pier. I savored your sweet voice and I remember. I… Continue reading
Gentle on my mind and a beautiful song by The Band Perry.
Easy on my mind.. She had heard too many useless words spoken and she needed a friend. She was a North Dakota gal, tall, long and so beautiful. She told me on a… Continue reading
A lady vow..
A lady vow.. 1- A lady vow, maybe true, maybe a lie? Her pretty words are just promises to be broken. Her gift of a smile, her gift of a sweet kiss. Maybe… Continue reading
Silence and listen. Remembering Mindy McCready.
Silence and listen… Old man sitting alone and he is talking to the wind. Sending apologies to old memories.Once a proud man filled with self-praise and goals. Today the goals mean nothing.Pride just… Continue reading
The lake songs..
I told her. I apology sweet Alison. Somewhere in time, the flowing river of love was murdered. I do not blame no-one. I have accepted my place. I have my journals, my pen… Continue reading