The burden of youth now lifted,
gears well lubed and automatically shifted.
We’ll coast up life’s many a peak.
And freely glide to wherever we seek.

Our time’s endless and just begun.
In a sea of many we’ll float as one.
Stars will dance in the brightest of skies.
And forever tomorrows await our eyes.

In the clouds we soar, ever nearing heaven’s door.
Our sunsets engulfed on an endless shore,
the sands of time unturned and pure.
And all is perfect with one to adore.



Me and My Guitar

A rocky road young love traveled,
she hit the brakes and life unraveled.
The music stopped and she left with my car.
The road now waits for me and my guitar.
Playing corner gigs for nickels and dimes,
ain’t got much voice but got good rhymes.
For every heart break there’s a song.
Then another and it don’t take long.
The sun’s sinking low and hungers on high,
when the loveliest of ladies caught my eye.
With twenty bucks or so in change,
necessity was now in range.
The weight of my wealth couldn’t slow me down.
I chased that lady half way cross town.
We shared a laugh and a quick bite.
I asked if I could crash for the night.
Her Benz was parked just around the block.
We both jumped in and started to rock.
Till the music stopped and she left with her car.
The road now waits for me and my guitar.


Rough Seas


Off to sea at seventeen
To see a world I hadn’t seen
To find a place to call my own
Youthful vigor, this child grown
This child grown yet not mature
Too many choices that’s for sure
Open eyes and open mind
Open mouth running blind
Open mouths words will flow
Open heart with nowhere to go
Met a gal, our short time grand
We toured my ship hand in hand
Phone calls followed, her “brother” met
One of a few I’d like to forget
He asked a favor, I obliged
I tried being good, I really tried
But all was not as it appeared
Soon a meeting that I feared
Spoke with my Captain, a man truly trusted
He sat me down and said I was busted
It was that sweet young gal, I adored
Was a narc I brought aboard
Years now past, I say what the hell
A sailor no more, but I’ve stories to tell


Stung by the Firefly

Summer days of long ago

Carefree times we all know

Pollen tickles our little nose

Grass tickles our little toes


Morning dew make footsteps glisten

The birdies make us stop and listen

Morning knocks on the old screen door

Weekend swims with friends at the shore


Afternoons spent being lazy

Evening sunsets being crazy

Chasing fireflies into the night

Kept in a jar for a magic nightlight


Then off to bed to dream of tomorrow

Waking with screams of death and sorrow

My firefly’s magic all died overnight

Now haunted am I by the sting of their light



Mind Over Maturity

Whilst all the young may have youth,
not all the youthful young.
Youth’s not measured by our age,
or the passions we engage.


It’s not about time at all,
or being big or being small.
It’s not a question of maturity,
rock star travel or annuity.


It’s the way we feel and perceive,
of life’s fascinations to conceive,
hopes, dreams and wishes to believe,
it’s how we love and how we grieve.


A youthful heart’s quick to mend,
quick to receive, give and lend.
Wonders abound in youthful eyes,
birds soar higher in bluer skies.


Yet youth is stolen by the fiendish lie,
That getting older is preparing to die.