In Peace Reborn

The poet inside of me is dead;

All the words that tied have fled.

Why is this you may ask, its true;

To this I have no answer, none due.

No reason for this lack of rhyme,

Unanswered questions? Perhaps in time;

Will unlock this bottomless pit forlorn;

And place me back in peace, reborn.



Go With Grace

Love the wind upon your hair
The sun on side of face
The whip inside the partial lace
The sound of laughters snare
Go with grace into the day
Your smile it does uphold
For beyond the gaze of timers gate
Is death your hand to hold