Life in a Minor Key

Step, step, twirl, fall and laugh.
Extend a hand and rise again.
Now we dance; feet, legs and arms
Move as one.

Step, step, twirl, fall and cry.
Extend a hand; it's pushed away.
The music continues, in a minor key,
There are two.

Cry, cry, sit, moan and despise.
Extended hand remains.
The hand moves; feet, legs, and arms
Stand as one.

Step, step, twirl, laugh and cry.
Extend a hand to my own.
The music plays in a minor key;
We move as one.

Long Awaited Epiphany

When all is burned away,
You remain.
When all things turn to gray,
You remain.
When all pursuits fail,
You remain.
When lights turn pale,
You remain.
When a heart cries,
You remain.
When even love dies,
You remain.
When eyes fill with tears,
You remain.
When there is sorrow; unending fears,
You remain.

When joy abounds,
You remain.
When beauty astounds,
You remain.
When pain and joy become one,
You remain.
When my striving is done,
You remain.

Lectures on English Poets...

Poetry is only the highest eloquence of passion, the most vivid form of expression that can be given to our conception of any thing, whether pleasureable or painful, mean or dignified, delightful or distressing. It is the perfect coincidence of the image and the words with the feeling we have, and of which we cannot get rid in any other way, that gives an instant "satisfaction of the thought." This is equally the origin of wit and fancy, of comedy and tragedy, of the sublime and the pathetic.... We see the thing ourselves, and show it to others as we feel it to exist, and as, in spite of ourselves, we are compelled to think of it. The imagination, by thus embodying and turning them to shape, gives an obvious relief to the indistinct and importunate cravings of the will. We do not wish the thing to be so; buy we wish it to appear such as it is. For knowledge is conscious power; and the mind is no longer, in this case, the dupe, though it may be the victim of vice or folly. Poetry is in all its shapes the language of the imagination and the passions, of fancy and will.

- William Hazlitt

A Check For $16.87

My desk is cluttered,
Less than this morning;
I cleaned it a little-
Its still not right.

Empty envelopes, white mints
Spotted with green, and paper still take
Up too much room. Can I get
My desk together, perfectly?

The internet doesn't work; I
Say its not my fault, that
Things are left undone.
No, things are left unsaid.

Psalm 19: 12-13

Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults. Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me! Then I shall be blameless and innocent of great transgressions.

Georgiana

There's a smile in your song
A lightness in your step.
Can I find you wrong?
No, not since the day we met.