The Dance of Travel

Took a train-ride into Boston that inspired me to move.

Saw the landscape through the tree-line full of beauty and soft bloom.

Colors rich in reds and yellows, orange browns on green soft hills.

What an eyesight to behold my vision ~ thirsty, hungry for a thrill.

It reminded me that bridges are the crossings of the bold,

always timeless, always reaching through the passage and the old.

Farms and buildings made of bricks laid across the rails unraveled.

And with beauty and cloaked magic made me feel the dance of travel.

Lifeline

Sing a song to me at nighttime

when the moon is full and bright.

Sing of dreams with soft caresses

sing of silks and feathers' flight.

When you finish all your verses

reach and touch my tired shore.

Cause your songs enchant the lifeline

that keeps air inside my core.

Mind Graffiti

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The colors that have splattered are 

the markings of my mind.

They are full of bright sharp edges

with soft circles at each line.

Single letters tell a story

each with bold and curvy strokes.

Sometimes loudly, sometimes softly

but each layered in the mold.

How I wish a pretty picture

could these images portray.

But instead, they are the markings

of a burst of cans array.

Have you ever painted over

walls that never seem to end?

It's impossible to phantom how

graffiti stays on sand.