Falling

The moon begins to fall
The distance I thought so far
It seems was not far at all

Far off a bright shining star,
Beckons a clarion call,
The cry feels so bizarre,

The journey starts with a crawl
Accompanied by guitars
While Moon furthers falls

Plea Bargain

Plea Bargain

Call me back to a brighter day

When time was a number not a sentence

Flowers still bloomed under a blistering sun

Children ran carefree through the streets

What happened to happier times?

To heartier laughter and friends?

Hedonistic summers wasted

Lounging in the twilight

Soft notes lost on the breeze

As we sat strumming guitars in the sunset

Can you remember those long gone hours?

If I close my eyes I can taste the charcoal

I am there with you

That’s all that matters

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The Perfect First Date

I think the perfect first date would be at least four days snowed in at a snow chalet with some good books, a deck of cards, an instrument, some wine and no sex.  Hear me out.  You would either love each other madly or want to kill each other.  The scientific community has conducted experiments that have shown three days is the amount of time the brain requires to adapt.  The no sex is because sex is irrelevant to a good relationship.  The books and cards I think are self explanatory.  The wine, well, in vino veritas.  The guitar is because I believe music makes the world go round.  If your taste in music does not mesh you can not live together.  I picked a snow chalet because if you don't have the option of leaving you have to stay and work it out.  Also even if you don't have sex, you can still cuddle to stay warm.  However, my form of romance and patience are outmoded.  Valor and Honor have gone the way of rotary phones and the VHS.  Still someone has to have hope and it makes my writing have a little more oomph behind it.  Look at Emily Dickinson.