The Work of My Words Your Art

The outline of this day, should be tender as this bloom, All wrapped in one color, and protecting the crimson in us, The vibrant blood of...

Bring the floral flame back among the living, Let it burn across the even souls and light the sky, Each day, each night, let it fill them...

The day. Today, its nice, its hot; its been the perfect day for fun and laughter. The fourth will be tomorrow, but we can play today,...

Just up, inside and past the gate, the barn stands, upon its last legs, staring its wanting stare, on ground so precious to its heart....

You have crossed the line. You are standing to close, you have brought yourself and your companion into my land. I stand in this high...

The storms, most often, move from the southwest, Across the plains of Oklahoma, And rumble their way down the literal path, Over homes and...

This house has stood a firmer breeze, and colder days, warmer nights, and sunshine playing its best upon its roof and walls. It has...

Heat of the June sky brings the feeling of working these fields forever. Five o’clock doesn’t even bring in the shadows for cool space,...

Listen. Listen past the broken windows. Listen past the trees, the growth on walls and windows. Listen to the footsteps, the cheers, the...

Oh Spring, when you have wandered, And the sun shall make its heat , When water seems rare to fall, The light will last for hours,...

Oh Spring, when you have wandered, And the sun shall make its heat , When water seems rare to fall, The light will last for hours,...

The days of being a boy in the 30’s, who rode the Great Plains all night on a horse, that moved sideways, in the rain the entire way, had...

The blossoms of white, The bloom centers of gold, How can these small flowers Bring the best of the day? The greatest of the great To our...

The happy small church, just down the block, With the bell up in the tower, Which swings and rings, on gracious Sundays, Calling to the...

Transcribe the feelings of today, and write them down on yesterday, for the past is the past is the past. The moon is rising, or setting,...

During the heat of the day, When all the world is working, Each brow is perspiring its own way, With lunches in oven, Floors being...

Facing west, it sits alone on the main road. She shows the peel of time, and weather, of paint and rust among the nails, and growth of...

Nothing but stones are in the garden. Stones with the names of loved ones, mothers and fathers, young children, old men and older women....

Purposeful birds whistle and pop, their sounds different, and very real, they harbor in to the birdhouse and the trough in the sun, and...

The chief had gone to war. Across the valley, Through the hills, over the river, to fight for those at home. His daughter had stayed, The...