Those gusty April winds the other day,
About the trees and houses they did play,
And like impassioned lovers in their bower bed,
They left my rumpled roof in flustered disarray!
Rubaiyat
Talking with Grandfather in his Cluttered Workshop
Am I a hoarder? Surely no!
This workshop might belie that, though…
Full of bins of salvaged parts
of broken things from long ago.
That bin of wheels from broken carts
I though might be replacement parts
for whom a use has not been found
These odd bits, we’ll use for arts?
My thinking here might not be sound.
But I like having parts around
to employ when something breaks
And another can’t be found.
Still… None of this was some mistake!
Imagine all the things we’ll make.
Imagine all the things we’ll make!
Paradise Attained
What is there, more, that anyone could need,
Cool beverage, with, to quench a bitter thirst,
Good food, enough, to share and still to eat,
And, at last, time to spend in pleasant company.
Aroil in Pain 