I was an active and happy person, whose sole hobby was collecting treasures,
As night collects vast amounts of silver, with its precious moonlight measures.
I loved to amass unusual items, like first edition books or movie memorabilia,
Vintage records, ticket stubs and posters, riveting as the scent of a gardenia.
My collection grew large over the years, like fancy blooms that follow the sun,
Strewing mixed colors over mountains and valleys, creating charming visions!
I kept this collection in the detached garage, of my house way up Sunset Hill,
......
The very fact of being alive, often causes one to seek adventure;
And sometimes it is no deterrent, when it carries traces of danger.
I was not a seasoned survivalist, but very much loved the outdoors,
Like varicolored flowers of summer, that are theirs mine and yours!
The red robins enthralled me, chanting down the brass sunny days,
In the way of the wild and free ones, adapted to their warm ways.
My friends were very like me, for we had many matching interests,
......
The storms
Wild, unforgiving
Violent and raging
They swarm
O! The force
The tempest it came
And the tempest it threw us off course
We're high, we're low
We ebb, we flow
......
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I always thought storm chasers
were a little crazy
these men with cameras
and beater cars
driving into the middle of nowhere
to chase an impending disaster.
Their faces would be split with a smile
almost drunk with pleasure
as they maneuvered their car across fields
and roads
......
As I stand, a poet in an ocean of words,
Unspoken feelings, unheard verses surge.
What is this craft, this calling to write?
Is it light for others or my own plight?
I pen the tales of others, the struggles they bear,
Yet each word I write is a weight I wear.
To live, to serve, to break free from norm,
A poet’s life—a perpetual storm.
......
In mountains high and rivers wide,
Nature speaks, no truth to hide.
It bends, it breaks, but it endures,
Through storms and rains, its heart secure.
Look to the earth, O soul of mine,
In its resilience, God’s grace shines.
A life of trials, yet peace it brings,
Nature whispers the wisdom of kings.
......
Polly Astley loved to have visitors, for she loved piquant, plum people;
Like counting stars when we were young, in milky moonlight, peaceful.
Her days were spent teaching children, with faces perky as sunflowers,
When redbirds danced in jade treetops, viewed by folk on lunch hours.
Polly loved the parties and get togethers, that she frequently attended;
Like red rhododendron and rose revelry, in scented gardens, extended.
Sukey Sykes was Polly's friend, and also roommate, sharing expenses;
......
I always thought storm chasers
were a little crazy
these men with cameras
and beater cars
driving into the middle of nowhere
to chase an impending disaster.
Their faces would be split with a smile
almost drunk with pleasure
as they maneuvered their car across fields
and roads
......
Patrick, Pearl and Phillip were fond siblings, in halcyon days of fairy tales;
Long beloved of Mother and Father, like beloved ballads of all nightingales.
Father was a successful tailor, creating finest clothes for women and men;
And they dwelled in a village near the river, in teal days of now and then.
Mother sold elegant embroidery, quite pretty, and often much in demand;
Like unforgettable, sunset rainbows, the anon recurring, prismatic bands.
Pearl and her siblings frolicked in the fecund fields, with finest of friends;
......