Long lost poet

Ah, the craziness that life brings,
playing in the stratosphere of imagination
I get lost amongst the tallest dreams
that rise like trees
in the forest.
Thick and rich with depth,
overflowing like the rain that falls,
filling a river in the wild,
I pluck the flowers of the minds garden
and build a bouquet of goodness,
and content with the creation,
rest easy at the end of the day
and rise to greet tomorrow
with a grateful heart.

Good morning friends,

As you can see here, I’ve been busy again in the publishing world. My newest creation, Diary of a Middle-Aged Mermaid, arrives via E-book on Saturday, August 3rd, and the paperbook should go live on Monday, August 5th.
The wheels have already been set in motion for the sequel to Tales From The Thrift and are chugging along nicely. I want to say thank you for any of you out there who have purchased the E-book or paperback version, or downloaded the Free Kindle Unlimited version of Tales From The Thrift. It is your support that keeps me motivated and uplifted in spirit, and for that, I most humbly thank each of you.

Rising

Rising from the depths,
we reach to touch the self set free
in the throes of a sudden joy,
we find belief in the unknown that lays beyond.

Beneath a gentle morning light
we wander step by step
keeping pace with times demands
we settle into the soothing flow.

Effortless is the moment
that we set aside our small demands
and allow the greatness to flow
into our hands in gratitude.

Selections of memory

Slipping through the grains of moments
the seconds stripped of times demand,
we move through thoughts that carry knowledge
in the channel of movement
we watch and remember.

Selections of memory rise on water
and bob on waves of dreams of now,
floating deaf we hear the heartbeat
as peace gathers us close
we drown on bliss.

Chained by the hours we pull with might
to escape in the time where stars do play,
and standing below we watch and wonder
where the road or next chapter lay
as we gather words and form the stories,
tales we tell to see us through.

Unfolding forms of a minds creation
page by page we lose ourselves
in blanket forts with flashlights watch
the black and white force
of a memory unleashed.

Poetic thoughts running amok, good morning my friends and have a peaceful and blessed day. K