Allowed to grow unfettered,

allowed to grow unnamed

Allowed to grow beyond myself,

connected once again

Swept up by the wind that brought me,

and free of nether mind

A light now shines within my soul

—that once had come to blind

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

The Better Option

Better to be liked

and not loved

Than to be loved

—and not liked

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)

How Little

It’s not about how much it takes

to make you happy

—but how little

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)

I never read it,

the way it was written

I never wrote it,

the way it should read

The lines connected,

were for me to be broken

A lesson once ending,

is where I began

I spoke out of time,

out of place…out of line

I wrote what I saw,

once the future was gone

I prided myself,

in a vision self nurtured

Asking permission for nothing

—and forgiveness for less

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February,2017)

Adversity’s Twins,

friend or foe

One to run from,

and one to know

Their dress Identic,

fame or blame

Accepted—Rejected,

truth renamed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Can you write in spite of comment,

can your soul withstand the pain

Can you free those words hid deepest,

can you shoulder all the blame

Can your heart and mind together,

walk arm in arm as one

Can you take a breath once finished,

knowing now

—your song has sung

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Never about

 what’s ‘right’

Only what’s ‘right’

—for you

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)

Climbing up the garden wall,

the questions loom

—the answers small

Climbing up the garden wall,

the past retreats

—the future falls

Climbing up the garden wall,

a distant voice

—your name beyond

Climbing up the garden wall,

a minstrel plays

—forgotten songs

Climbing up the garden wall,

Lot’s wife is dead

—not looking back

Climbing up the garden wall,

the top in sight

—the beanstalk jacked

Climbing up the garden wall,

I reach across

—all fear behind

Climbing up the garden wall,

horizons new

—the choices mine

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Dying alone on foreign ground,

death grips his blessed hand

Never choosing time or place,

 method certain

—the Angels plan

An oak to fall on alien soil,

all seeds to heaven thrown

His words cast free to light the dark,

that ‘Good Night’

—now his own

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

The sharper the point,

  the deeper the wound

The shorter the verse

  —the truth at high-noon 

 (Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

Trapped in the meter,

a prisoner of rhyme

My spirit indicted,

destroyer of time

A minstrels disciple,

epistle in hand

The sound and the rhythm,

my souls contraband

New couplets my jailer,

their sentences terse

The key to their freedom,

locked deep in the verse

And serving in silence,

chalk marks on the wall

I listen intently,

for one voice to call

Awaiting its pardon,

this conviction will end

My words liberated

—to forever amend

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)