I am standing at the cliff's edge
as I look out to the sea;
waves crash on a nameless shoreline
stirred up by a nameless wind.

In my spirit I am pounding,
filled with dread anticipation.
Something in the air is stirring-
portent of a nameless fiend.

I can feel her fiery breathing
and can see her charming eyes.
I am incapacitated
by the shadow of her being.

She's the mother of confusion,
the enchantress of despair;
keeper of a flock of sorrows,
goat-herd of a thousand fears.

your voice beckons me now
to my backyard, in Canada
where each autumn
I compose a poem

the leaves of yore since forgotten
trampled by winds crushing speed
up into the air leaves are blown
high above the trees
where beyond ,
they could never have reached,
ere there had been no autumn…

the colours manifests on my mind’s wire
as I see myriads of them
my drooping eyes admire

The dark room

The darkness closed about my form
In think, there were my fellow travellers
They closed the spaces between our ways
A common bond let feelings flow.

We tried to think of things
Something you all should know
All things became muddled
As many wanted their way to go

Then peace took over,
Where pure thought could rule
Tell them, tell them, they need to know
Though it is not for us to say.

I await the coming frosts of fall
having tired of summer's heat.
I long to hear coyote's call
and the crunch of running cloven feet.

Let me see the woods ablaze,
trees colored with the shades of fire
as leaves announce their final days
and greens fade as their times expire.

I yearn to hear trumpeting fowl
flying south in shifting vees,
the evening call of a barred owl
drifting on a slight cool breeze.