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Early, early, the dew forming drops to tease a parched earth.

Sleepy stars fading into their day beds to dream grand dreams of Super Novas and coal black skies.

Little critters on the prowl, safe for this moment in this magic hour.

Tattered clouds, dripping red fingers that point to a new dawn.

A lone bird sings only to me.

You can be someone who goes through life making a jack-knife stick blade first into the dirt only to dull the point …
Or you can be the blade that uses the dirt to create life and makes it’s own sharp point  !

One day once upon a time, much like this very day , there lived in a place that was full of magic a very lucky boy …
His name was Very Lucky Boy and he was very happy. He had Very good friends and they were happy people also…
It so happened that people who didn’t live where the Lucky Boy lived were greedy and tried to take all the happiness away by destroying the economy of the Lucky people and making the things they believed in tarnish in the light of the sun…
It was so bad that one or two of the Lucky Boy’s favorite people started telling little white lies and trying to make up stories…
Lucky Boy saw this and it made him sad but before becoming bitter, Lucky Boy was even luckier and found some old friends he had not seen in many years who were still happy and did not believe in sad, unlucky things…
They came to lucky Boy and said great things that filled him with so much hope and happiness it drove the sad thoughts back to where they started and Lucky Boy was even happier than before…
He was so happy that even on a winter day he saw rainbows and blue skies…

Centuries pass before the oak reaches final mass, decline surely to follow, a hard thing for the giant to swallow.
Gray and great, in summer heavy with green, the kind seen only in my dreams that seed my night and propagate.
With tentacled feet reaching deep, deeper than my soul can fathom, askew and random.
It could be me standing there, the wind rustling my hair, thinking lofty thought, stuck within my only plot.

The Oak-N-Me

Well I best be asking old Moon to come back because I haven’t seen it in a while. I aught to make a business of doing that because I know the moon is either shy or gets mad easily and will go away and it scares people. SOOOO for just a few coins I will beseech the moon on your behalf to come back when you peeve her off . You seem to do that every month but she likes me and will come back if I ask her. I figure between all of you a dollar a month, or more if you were really bad see me on the side, would do the trick. Why so much you ask? Well it takes all my time thinking of how to get your money , … errr I mean … how to bring her back. She demands that I come before her dressed in fine clothes with gold embroidery ya know, then there is the part that with all my time begging on your behalf I have no time to work so need a little bit for my new truck , … err I mean … gas to light the flames of passion I dedicate to her though all those flames make my house very warm it will all be for you. SO give it up for Moon’s day will ya?

Oh Moon , I , on behalf of those who donated ONLY!, I beseech you to come back into our lives and light the way in our night that we may not trip on that extra lamb shank I bought with fat money and may you make them understand that if they give me more I will buy more that I … err … We might walk in safety the darkened streets that economy has laid upon us.
Yes I said it …

January Moon

No matter how hard through the window to the future I look, alas tis always the past I see looking back at me in the glass and by the time the future comes around there is no way to change the things I should have done. Only a static rush of things gone by, a passing sound.

  Mr. P. Kin was found early this morning, lying motionless at his home at Gardener lane.