You wouldn’t hire

a fox

to reinvent

the henhouse

And you wouldn’t

task a mute

to shout

“The Enemy’s Approaching”

 

You wouldn’t

date a woman

another’s love

she carries

And you wouldn’t

give a hand

to a foe who’s pledged

to bite it

 

You wouldn’t

show your cards

to a double-dealing

cheater

And you wouldn’t

trust a bard

who can’t read his words

with feeling

 

You wouldn’t

take the time

from an hourglass

that’s empty

And you wouldn’t

stop to ponder

on an answer

— without question

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)

A twelve-month extension

left under the tree

The Muse playing Santa

— her words my reprieve

 

(Deamsleep: December, 2025)

A conduit

of passion

Where life

can be recharged

 

Exists inside

our psyches

To free

the darkness charred

 

Isotopes

of fusion

Where fact

and fiction wed

To redefine

our essence

And make

— tomorrow’s bed

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)

 

There is nothing so acrid

— as the smell of time

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)

Arriving

like twilight

the Muse

spreads her veil

 

Where voices

once silent

crawl out

 to assail

 

The enemy

distant

the battle cry

near

 

As darkness

emboldens

what daylight

— enfears

 

 

(The New Room: January, 2026)

On how many levels

does true genius spawn

Is its gift comprehensive

or surgically drawn

 

Does it drive our emotions

like intellect swayed

Or stay pointed and focused

in only one way

 

Is it able to migrate

to conscience from mind

Can it cross a new border

or hill to be climbed

 

Will it outgrow the limits

indentured by class

Enhancing our psyches

— all borders surpassed

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)

 

You can’t fall off

the middle

Direction

yours to choose

Which way conceals

your downfall

Which way

awaits the Muse

 

The center offers

safety

Encircled

in the flow

Whose currents

hide a Siren

Enticing

— you below

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2025)

 

The difference between

too much

— and not enough

  

(Dreamsleep: January, 2025)

If your verse

is not remembered

Then all that time

was lost

 

Pretty words

and clever lines

Will melt

like Winter’s frost

 

If what you say

is subject

To what the wind

will blow

 

Time better spent

the less you vent

All verbiage

— to forego

 

(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)

The wiring harness

connecting life

crossed

but grounded sure

 

Eluding sight

and force of will

its power

most secure

 

And only seen

when time shorts out

in flashes

not to last

 

Of red and black

and green contacts

that charge

— the future past

 

(The New Room: January, 2025)