I

like

.

t

o

.

stray,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dance,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

play

–

–

among

.

t

h

e

.

clouds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

directions,

–

–

delays,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

destinations

.

a

r

e

.

always

.

i

n

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

nothing

.

c

a

n

.

be

assured

.

o

r

.

secured,

–

–

except

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

nothing

.

c

a

n

.

be

assured

.

o

r

.

secured,

–

–

except

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

b

o

u

t

–

–

–

clouds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

whether

storming

rains . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

hurricanes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ whether

shades

.

o

f

.

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

sunny

days

–

–

escaping

.

t

h

e

.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

something

new

.

c

a

n

.

happen

.

e

v

e

r

y

.

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ something

new

.

c

a

n

.

happen

.

e

v

e

r

y

.

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

clouds 

care

.

n

o

t

.

about

.

t

h

e

.

route . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

n

o

r

–

–

–

about

.

t

h

e

.

how . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Clouds

care

.

n

o

t

.

about

what

.

i

s

.

out,

.

.

o

r

.

.

in,

.

.

o

r

.

.

out . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

n

o

r

–

–

–

about

what

.

i

s

.

allowed

.

b

y

.

the

crowd . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

stray,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dance,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

play . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

stray,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dance,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

play . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

stray,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dance,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

play . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

.

–

–

–

their

.

o

w

n

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

t

–

–

–

their

.

o

w

n

.

pace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

their

.

o

w

n

.

grace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

day,

.

.

t

o

.

.

day,

.

.

t

o

.

.

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

from

place,

.

.

t

o

.

.

place,

.

.

t

o

.

.

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

b

o

u

t

–

–

–

clouds.

Reflection: This is a reflective-themed poem I wrote in May of 2025 while listening to another favorite 80s song from my earlier years: “I Still Believe (Great Design)” by The Call. I played this song on repeat, at low volume, in the background to create the “moodset” for the poem which greatly inspired me: conjuring up feelings and images of boundless hope, peace, and freedom – something perhaps best represented by clouds. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Time

.

a

l

w

a

y

s

.

smiles

.

s

o

.

warm

.

a

n

d

.

bright,

.

.

o

n

.

.

pages

.

o

f

.

days

.

g

o

n

e

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Time

.

a

l

w

a

y

s

.

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Time

.

a

l

w

a

y

s

.

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Time

.

a

l

w

a

y

s

.

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

warm

.

a

n

d

.

bright,

.

.

o

n

.

.

pages

.

o

f

.

days

.

g

o

n

e

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry 

.

f

o

r

.

the

sunshine

.

t

h

a

t

.

danced

.

s

o

.

wide

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

o

f

.

summertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry

.

f

o

r

.

loves

.

a

n

d

.

likes,

–

–

which

.

i

n

.

my

life

.

n

o

.

longer

reside . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry

.

f

o

r

.

subtle

goodbyes

.

I

.

once

denied,

.

.

o

r

.

.

did

.

n

o

t

.

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry

.

f

o

r

.

rhapsodies

.

a

n

d

.

rhymes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

failed

.

t

o

.

prize

.

a

n

d

.

hold

.

u

p

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

I

realize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

those

were

.

t

h

e

.

better

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ those

were

.

t

h

e

.

best

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

my

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Those

were

.

t

h

e

.

best

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Those

were

.

t

h

e

.

best

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Those

were

.

t

h

e

.

best

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

.

.

.

my

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

life

.

l

e

f

t

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

life

.

n

o

.

longer

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry.

Reflection:  This is a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote in May of 2025 where the contemplator looks back on a wonderful past that was left behind – and he/she comes to the haunting realization those were the best days of his/her life. This was a poem which took an unexpected turn when I started writing it. I was listening to two, favorite 80s songs from my earlier years: “Space Age Love Song” by A Flock of Seagulls and “Don’t Change” by INXS. These songs conjured up warm images of summer and sunshine, and I felt warmly inspired by them. So, I played these songs on repeat, at low volume, in the background and started writing the poem. I had expected a warm, hopeful, inspirational kind of poem but, as always, when writing poetry, I just let the words and phrases go in any direction they choose. So, what I ended up with was a melancholy-themed poem instead of the hope/inspirational-themed poem I had expected. Oh well, that’s the way writing goes sometimes. In my experience, the better poems write themselves and take whatever direction they choose. So, I’m just going to leave it at that. Perhaps someone will gain something from it in its current form.

Almond

mousse,

–

–

Tiramisu,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

chocolate

fondue . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

everything

.

i

n

.

one,

–

–

makes

.

i

t

.

easy

.

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

makes

.

i

t

.

easy

.

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

I’m

thinking

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Music

blends

.

a

n

d

.

brews,

.

.

s

m

o

o

t

h

.

.

romantic

moves . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

wanted

whispers

.

a

n

d

.

words,

–

–

fire

.

a

n

d

.

flame

.

passionate

pursuit . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

fire

.

a

n

d

.

flame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

fire

.

a

n

d

.

flame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

fire

.

a

n

d

.

flame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

passionate

pursuit . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

passionate

pursuit . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

wanted

whispers

.

a

n

d

.

words. . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Green

loves

blue,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

tangerine

too . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

although,

it’s

easy

. 

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

each,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

all,

.

.

o

f

.

.

every . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

s

–

–

–

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

it’s

difficult

.

t

o

.

discern

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it’s

easy

. 

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

each,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

all,

.

o

f

.

.

every . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

s

–

–

–

you . . .  

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

difficult

.

t

o

.

discern

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

I’m

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

.

w

e

.

could

be

.

a

n

d

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

every

moon

.

until

noon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

consumes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Smiles

.

a

n

d

.

laughter . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Laughter

.

a

n

d

.

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

design

.

a

.

summertime

.

f

u

l

l

.

of

rhyme . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

summertime

.

f

u

l

l

.

of

rhyme . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

mere

moments

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Warmth

.

a

n

d

.

wonder . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Wonder

.

a

n

d

.

warmth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

waltz

.

w

i

t

h

.

sand

.

a

n

d

.

sky . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

waltz

.

w

i

t

h

.

sand

.

a

n

d

.

sky . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

waltz

.

w

i

t

h

.

sand

.

a

n

d

.

sky . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

passion

paradise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ in

passion

paradise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

the

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

yes,

.

It’s

easy

. 

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

each,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

all,

.

.

o

f

.

.

every . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

s

–

–

–

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

difficult

.

t

o

.

discern

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

easy

. 

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

each,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

all,

.

.

o

f

.

.

every . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

s

–

–

–

you . .  

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

difficult

.

t

o

.

discern

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

easy

. 

t

o

.

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

each,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

all,

.

.

o

f

.

.

every . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

s

–

–

–

you . .  

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

difficult

.

t

o

.

discern

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

I’m

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

.

w

e

.

could

be

.

a

n

d

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

every

moon

.

until

noon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

consumes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

proof . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

room . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

moon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

new . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

blues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

tunes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

dues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

I’m

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

.

w

e

.

could

be

.

a

n

d

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dreaming

.

o

f

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

every

moon

.

until

noon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

this

.

i

s

.

all

.

I

.

want

.

t

o

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

This

.

i

s

.

all

.

I

.

want

.

t

o

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

This

.

i

s

.

all

.

I

.

want

.

t

o

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

This

.

i

s

.

all

.

I

.

want

.

t

o

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

right

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

consumes.

Reflection:  This is a romantic-themed poem that I wrote in May of 2025 based on a passionate experience which may or may not have happened in Barcelona, Spain. I’m sure many of us have had experiences like this. I wrote part of this poem sitting on a plane, and the rest after I got home reflecting back.

I

saw

.

y

o

u

.

on

.

a

.

train,

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

.

eyes,

–

–

meet

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

saw

.

y

o

u

.

on

.

a

.

train,

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

.

eyes,

–

–

meet

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride

.

t

h

e

.

highs,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

lows,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

tossing,

–

–

tumbling

tides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

highs,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

lows,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

tossing,

–

–

tumbling

tides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

hours

.

o

f

.

the

days

.

a

n

d

.

nights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

v

e

r

–

–

–

the

space

.

o

f

.

mere

moments

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

hours

.

o

f

.

the

days

.

a

n

d

.

nights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

v

e

r

–

–

–

the

space

.

o

f

.

mere

moments

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

v

e

r

–

–

–

the

space

.

o

f

.

mere

moments

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

v

e

r

–

–

–

the

space

.

o

f

.

mere

moments

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while,

–

–

there

.

w

a

s

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while,

–

–

there

.

w

a

s

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

.

t

h

e

.

moment

.

I

.

opened

.

m

y

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ until

.

t

h

e

.

moment

.

I

.

opened

.

m

y

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

came

.

t

o

.

realize,

.

.

w

e

.

.

were

.

n

o

.

longer

sitting

.

side

.

b

y

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

saw

.

y

o

u

.

on

.

a

.

train,

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

.

eyes,

–

–

meet

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

saw

.

y

o

u

.

on

.

a

.

train,

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

.

eyes,

–

–

meet

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

saw

.

y

o

u

.

on

.

a

.

train,

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

.

eyes,

–

–

meet

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

ride

.

t

h

e

.

highs,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

lows,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

tossing,

–

–

tumbling

tides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

d

i

d

.

fantasize,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

ride

.

t

h

e

.

highs,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

lows,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

tossing,

–

–

tumbling

tides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

hours

.

o

f

.

the

days

.

a

n

d

.

nights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

v

e

r

–

–

–

the

space

.

o

f

.

mere

moments

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ over

.

t

h

e

.

space

.

o

f

.

mere

moments

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while,

–

–

there

.

w

a

s

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while,

–

–

there

.

w

a

s

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

made

.

m

e

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

.

i

t

.

made

.

m

e

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

never

.

b

e

.

able

.

t

o

.

trade

.

t

h

e

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

even

.

i

n

.

new

places

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

.

eyes,

–

–

meet

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ even

.

i

n

.

new

places

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

.

eyes,

–

–

meet

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

smile.

Reflection:  This is a romantic-themed poem that I wrote in May of 2025 while I was in Girona, Spain based on a real experience I had on a train while in Spain. I’m sure many of us have had passionate kinds of experiences like this. I wrote most of this poem in my hotel in Girona, Spain reflecting back, and later refined it using two haunting gems of songs: “The Strangest Thing” by George Michael and “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak. I played these songs in the background on repeat at low volume to create the “moodset” and refine the poem. If you listen to these songs at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

You

.

s

a

y

.

it’s

.

a

.

heartbreak

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

makes

.

y

o

u

.

feel

.

t

h

i

s

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

heartache

.

t

h

a

t

.

you

.

w

i

s

h

.

would

.

g

o

.

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

your

smile

.

w

i

l

l

.

shine

again

.

m

y

.

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

a

heartbreak

.

i

s

.

what

.

i

t

.

takes,

.

.

t

o

.

.

turn

.

t

h

e

.

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pave

.

t

h

e

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

better

.

a

n

d

.

brighter

–

–

future

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ for

better

.

a

n

d

.

brighter

–

–

future

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

endless

laughter

.

a

n

d

.

play . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

the

.

n

e

x

t

.

love

.

y

o

u

.

create . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

appreciate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

warmly

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

.

n

e

x

t

.

love

.

y

o

u

.

create . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

appreciate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

warmly

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

.

o

n

l

y

.

way

.

y

o

u

.

can

arrive

.

i

n

.

that

place,

.

.

i

s

.

.

through

.

t

h

e

.

heartbreaks

.

o

f

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

the

heartaches

.

o

f

.

yesterday

.

a

r

e

.

what

.

i

t

.

takes,

.

.

t

o

.

.

turn

.

t

h

e

.

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pave

.

t

h

e

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

turn

.

t

h

e

.

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

turn

.

t

h

e

.

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

turn

.

t

h

e

.

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pave

.

t

h

e

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

better

.

a

n

d

.

brighter

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ for

better

.

a

n

d

.

brighter

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

the

.

n

e

x

t

.

love

.

y

o

u

.

create . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

appreciate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

warmly

embrace.

Reflection:  This is a hope/inspiration-themed poem that I wrote in April of 2025 when I was in Valencia Spain. One night when I was out, I met a group of five friends aged between 18 and 20. One of them said hello to me as I was walking by, so I stopped to talk with them. They were all so different, with very different personalities, but just wonderful people overall. And they were so curious after I told them I was a life coach. They said they had all gone through recent heartbreaks with relationship break-ups and really needed to hear something positive – and they were so happy to have someone to talk to about it. Regarding the breakups, I told them to be thankful they found out early on that their relationships were not working as well as they could have because they will now be available when someone truly amazing comes along, and that their future relationships will tend to get better over time because they will gain a better sense of what they want in a relationship and who they might be most compatible with. In reflection of this and what they were going through I wrote this poem to try to offer encouragement, hope, and inspiration. I wrote most of this poem sitting on a bench in Plaza de la Reina in Valencia. Spain. I later refined it by listening to the songs: “I Won’t Hold You Back” and “I’ll Be Over You” by Toto which I played in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the refining of the poem. If you listen to these songs at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Intro:

We

played

.

u

p

o

n

.

the

sands . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

u

p

o

n

.

the

sands . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

sandcastle

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

warmed

.

b

y

.

the

golden

grace

.

o

f

.

endless

summer

rays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ warmed

.

b

y

.

the

golden

grace

.

o

f

.

endless

summer

rays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

u

p

o

n

–

–

–

the

sands

.

o

f

.

sandcastle

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

 ~ of

sandcastle

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

forever

swept

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

y

–

–

–

the

wagering

waves . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ by

.

t

h

e

.

wagering

waves . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

blame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

f

e

l

t

.

it

coming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

l

o

n

g

–

–

–

before

.

t

h

e

.

breath . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

f

e

l

t

.

it

coming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

a

r

–

–

–

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

bend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

w

a

s

.

summer’s

.

.

.

f

a

l

l

.

.

.

when

.

w

e

.

gave

.

i

t

.

all . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

w

a

s

.

summer’s

.

.

.

f

a

l

l

.

.

.

when

.

w

e

.

made

.

t

h

e

.

call . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

play

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

shade

.

o

f

.

blame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

aged

.

a

.

love

.

i

n

.

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

aged

.

o

u

r

.

love . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

pushing

deeper,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

deeper,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

deeper

.

.

i

n

t

o

.

.

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

there

.

w

a

s

.

no

.

m

o

r

e

.

trace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ until

there

.

w

a

s

.

nothing

more

.

t

o

.

save . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

deeper,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

deeper,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

deeper,

.

.

i

n

t

o

.

.

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

there

.

w

a

s

.

nothing

more

.

t

o

.

save . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

nothing

more

.

t

o

.

say . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there

.

w

a

s

.

nothing

more

.

t

o

.

save . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

nothing

more

.

t

o

.

say . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

played

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

there

.

i

s

.

no

escape . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

.

i

s

.

no

escape

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

blame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

.

i

s

.

no

escape

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

There

.

i

s

.

no

escape

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

pain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

.

.

.

a

.

l

o

v

e

.

aged

.

i

n

.

gray.

Reflection:  This is a romantic-themed poem that I wrote in March of 2025 where the contemplator looks back on a youthful, passionate courtship that could have been a wonderful, longstanding romance which ended primarily due to naivety, inexperience, and petty disagreements and behaviors. We get the feeling he/she would love to start again but the accumulating changes and distance over the years seem to prevent that from happening. I wrote most of this poem by listening to two wonderful songs: “Hotel Womb” and “Lost” by The Church which I played in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to these songs at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it. I used to love album “Starfish” by The Church and started listening to it again – these two songs were favorites of mine as were so many others on this amazing album.

Intro:

There

.

w

a

s

.

warmth,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

hope,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

promise

.

t

h

a

t

.

melted

.

t

h

e

.

sleet

.

a

n

d

.

snow

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

roads . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

 ~ they

melted

.

t

h

e

.

sleet

.

a

n

d

.

snow

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

roads

.

o

f

.

the

soul,

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

freely

go

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

brighter

futures

glow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

time

.

t

o

.

put

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

i

s

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

time

.

t

o

.

open

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

t

o

.

sunshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

to

let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

i

s

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

I

t

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

I

t

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

smiles

across

.

t

h

e

.

lines

.

a

n

d

.

divides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

divides

.

a

n

d

.

lines . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ between

day

.

a

n

d

.

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

high

.

a

n

d

.

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

u

s

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

u

s

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

.

h

o

l

d

.

hands

.

a

n

d

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

lines

.

a

n

d

.

divides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ across

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

a

n

d

.

nights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

across

.

t

h

e

.

highs

.

a

n

d

.

wides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

mile,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

mile,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

aisle,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

aisle,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

aisle . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

u

s

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

.

u

s

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

.

h

o

l

d

.

hands

.

a

n

d

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

now

.

i

s

.

the

time.

Reflection:  This is an inspiration/hope-themed poem that I wrote in February of 2025 for a time when love, and warmth, and hope really seemed to be needed. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, fun, disco age song “The Hustle” by Van McCoy – a happy song that was first released on 18 May 1975 and seemed to point towards love, and warmth, and hope during a dark period of time in the mid-1970s; a dark period of time which seems to be echoed here today. I played this song in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

The
snow
slows
.
b
u
t
.
never
.
l
e
t
s
.
go . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

 ~ it
never
.
l
e
t
s
.
go
.
o
f
.
the
.
o
n
l
y
.
road,
.
.
t
h
a
t
.
.
knows
.
its
.
w
a
y
.
back
home . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It’s
the
.
o
n
l
y
.
road,
.
.
t
h
a
t
.
.
knows
.
its
.
w
a
y
.
back
home . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
still,
.
I
choose
.
t
o
.
be
alone . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

I
choose
.
t
o
.
be
alone . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
t
o
–
–
–
avoid
.
t
h
e
.
ghosts
.
o
f
.
shadows . . .

–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
the
shadows
.
o
f
.
ghosts . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

 ~ I
avoid
.
t
h
e
.
ghosts
.
o
f
.
shadows . . .

–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
the
shadows
.
o
f
.
ghosts . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
t
h
a
t
–
–
–
dance
with
.
t
h
e
.
echoes,
–
–
melancholy
.
memories
pose . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
s
o
–
–
–
it
snows . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It
snows . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It
snows . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It
snows . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It
snows . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
l
l
–
–
–
over
.
t
h
a
t
.
road . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

 ~ all
over
.
t
h
e
.
only
road,
.
.
t
h
a
t
.
.
knows
.
its
.
w
a
y
.
back
home . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It’s
the
.
o
n
l
y
.
road . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It’s
the
.
o
n
l
y
.
road . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.

It’s
the
.
o
n
l
y
.
road,
.
.
t
h
a
t
.
.
knows
.
its
.
w
a
y
.
back
home . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
a
n
d
–
–
–
still,
.
I
choose
.
t
o
.
be
alone.

Reflection:  This is a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote in February of 2025 where the contemplator looks back on a past filled with haunting memories of abuse, heartbreak, sadness, emptiness, and loneliness. We get the feeling he/she seeks healing and consolation and contemplates returning home – but the sinking feelings that frequently accompany such memories prevent that from happening. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, gem of a song “Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime” by The Korgis which I played in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I

wonder . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like,

.

.

t

o

.

.

be

.

t

h

e

.

guy

.

w

h

o

.

brings

.

t

h

a

t

.

smile

.

t

o

.

your

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ who

fills

.

y

o

u

r

.

nights

.

w

i

t

h

.

warming

whispers

.

a

n

d

.

wine,

–

–

whenever

.

h

e

.

comes

.

t

o

.

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

dance

inside

.

y

o

u

r

.

candlelight

.

f

o

r

.

moments

.

a

t

.

a

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

moments

.

a

t

.

a

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm

.

a

n

d

.

rhyme

aligns,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

feels

.

j

u

s

t

.

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm

.

a

n

d

.

rhyme

aligns,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

feels

.

j

u

s

t

.

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

almost

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

almost

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

o

u

–

–

–

could

.

b

e

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

almost

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

almost

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

almost

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

o

u

–

–

–

could

.

b

e

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm

.

a

n

d

.

rhyme

aligns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

feels

.

j

u

s

t

.

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

again

.

tonight,

.

.

I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

be

.

t

h

e

.

guy

.

w

h

o

.

brings

.

t

h

a

t

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ who

fills

.

w

i

t

h

.

whispers

.

a

n

d

.

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ who

dances

.

inside

.

t

h

a

t

.

candlelight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wonder

.

w

h

a

t

.

it

might

.

b

e

.

like . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

be

.

t

h

e

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

be

.

t

h

e

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

your

life.

Reflection: Here is a new romantic-themed poem that I wrote in reflection of a recent experience. I’m sure many of us have had similar kinds of experiences and can probably relate to this – so I thought I would try to capture it in images and words. I hope I captured it well and am grateful that I still have experiences like this from time-to-time. I started out by penning the line: “I wonder what it might be like . . .” and the poem pretty much wrote itself from that opening line. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “Touch in Mine” by Esperanza Spalding which I played in the background to create the “moodset” for the poem and inspire the writing of the poem. So, if you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I

.

a

l

w

a

y

s

.

thought

.

I

.

m

i

g

h

t

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

again,

–

–

sweet

.

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

always

.

t

h

o

u

g

h

t

.

I

.

might . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

always

.

f

e

l

t

.

there

might

.

b

e

.

more

fine

.

a

n

d

.

fun

times,

.

.

w

h

e

n

.

.

I

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

always

.

f

e

l

t

.

there

might . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

weeks,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

months,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

years

.

.

g

o

.

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

leaving

nothing

.

m

o

r

e

.

than

miles

.

a

n

d

.

time,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

time

.

a

n

d

.

miles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ leaving

miles

.

a

n

d

.

time,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

time

.

a

n

d

.

miles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

emptiness

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

I

.

d

o

.

not

.

s

e

e

.

your

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

I

.

d

o

.

not

.

f

e

e

l

.

your

light . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

I

.

d

o

.

not

.

s

e

n

s

e

.

your

shimmer

.

o

r

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

I

.

d

o

.

not

.

s

e

n

s

e

.

your

shimmer

.

o

r

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

the

weeks,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

months,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

years

.

.

g

o

.

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

weeks,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

months,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

years

.

.

g

o

.

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

weeks,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

months,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

years

.

.

g

o

.

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

weeks,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

months,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

years

.

.

g

o

.

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

leaving

nothing

.

m

o

r

e

.

than

miles

.

a

n

d

.

time,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

time

.

a

n

d

.

miles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ leaving

miles

.

a

n

d

.

time,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

time

.

a

n

d

.

miles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

emptiness

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

.

I

.

g

e

t

.

haunted

.

b

y

.

the

mirrors . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

I

.

g

e

t

.

haunted

.

b

y

.

the

mirrors . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

my

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

g

e

t

.

haunted

.

b

y

.

the

mirrors . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

g

e

t

.

haunted

.

b

y

.

the

mirrors . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

g

e

t

.

haunted

.

b

y

.

the

mirrors . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

my

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

shining

.

a

.

bright

.

a

n

d

.

bitter

light

.

o

n

.

a

.

life

.

l

e

f

t

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ shining

a

.

bright

.

a

n

d

.

bitter

light

.

o

n

.

a

.

life,

–

–

forever

.

l

e

f

t

.

behind.

Reflection:  This is a melancholy-themed poem where the contemplator looks back on a special someone he or she greatly misses who really meant something to him/her earlier in life. The contemplator struggles with the heartbreak, the sadness, the emptiness, and the loneliness, as well as the sinking feelings that frequently accompany these. He/She spends a lot of time brooding and finds little meaning, purpose, or joy in life as a result. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, gem of a song “Fire and Rain” by James Taylor which I played in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.