☆°▪︎ THE LOST AND LONESOME AISLES (OF GOODBYE) ▪︎°☆

I

would

rather

go

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

lost

.

a

n

d

.

lonesome

aisles

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

try . . .

.

.

.

I

would

rather

go

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

lost

.

a

n

d

.

lonesome

aisles . . .

.

.

.

I

would

rather

go

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

lost

.

a

n

d

.

lonesome

aisles . . .

.

.

.

I

would

rather

go

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

lost

.

a

n

d

.

lonesome

aisles

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

try . . .

.

.

.

t

o

keep

.

i

t

.

alive . . .

.

.

.

s

o

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight . . .

.

.

.

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight . . .

.

.

.

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

 ~ the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

o

f

goodbye . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

I

want

.

s

o

.

much

.

t

o

.

try

.

t

o

.

keep

.

i

t

.

alive . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

want

.

s

o

.

much

.

t

o

.

try . . .

.

.

.

while

.

t

h

e

.

shimmer

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

shines . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

want

.

s

o

.

much

.

t

o

.

try . . .

.

.

.

while

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

rhymes . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

eyes

always

linger,

.

a

n

d

.

stay

behind . . .

.

.

.

especially

when

they

start

.

t

o

.

cry . . .

.

.

.

Eyes

always

linger

.

a

n

d

.

stay

behind . . .

.

.

.

Eyes

always

linger

.

a

n

d

.

stay

behind . . .

.

.

.

Eyes

always

linger

.

a

n

d

.

stay

behind . . .

.

.

.

especially

when

they

start

.

t

o

.

cry . . .

.

.

.

 ~ especially

when

they

start

.

t

o

.

cry . . .

.

.

.

On

some

other

day . . .

.

.

.

o

r

in

some

other

time . . .

.

.

.

I

might

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

smile . . .

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

.

o

n

.

some

other

day . . .

.

.

.

o

r

in

some

other

time . . .

.

.

.

I

might

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

smile . . .

.

.

.

I

might

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

smile . . .

.

.

.

I

might

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

smile . . .

.

.

.

I

might

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

smile . . .

.

.

.

o

n

some

other

day . . .

.

.

.

o

r

in

some

other

time . . .

.

.

.

b

u

t

now,

.

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

o

f

goodbye . . .

.

.

.

s

o

I

reach

.

f

o

r

.

you,

.

a

l

l

.

hours

.

o

f

.

the

days

.

a

n

d

.

nights . . .

.

.

.

I

reach

.

f

o

r

.

you . . .

.

.

.

I

reach

.

f

o

r

.

you . . .

.

.

.

I

reach

.

f

o

r

.

you . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

go

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

lost

.

a

n

d

.

lonesome

aisles . . .

.

.

.

I

go

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

lost

.

a

n

d

.

lonesome

aisles . . .

.

.

.

I

go

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

lost

.

a

n

d

.

lonesome

aisles . . .

.

.

.

t

o

try

.

t

o

.

keep

.

i

t

.

alive . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

try

.

t

o

.

keep

.

i

t

.

alive . . .

.

.

.

between

.

t

h

e

.

memories

.

t

h

a

t

.

collide,

.

a

n

d

.

align,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dance

.

side

.

b

y

.

side . . .

.

.

.

They

.

collide

.

a

n

d

.

align . . .

.

.

.

They

.

collide

.

a

n

d

.

align . . .

.

.

.

They

.

collide

.

a

n

d

.

align . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

dance

.

side

.

b

y

.

side . . .

.

.

.

s

o

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

I

do

.

n

o

t

.

want

.

t

o

.

drown

.

i

n

.

the

demise

.

o

f

.

all

we

left

behind . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

do

.

n

o

t

.

want

.

t

o

.

drown

.

i

n

.

the

demise

.

b

y

.

seeing

.

y

o

u

.

solely

.

i

n

.

the

shadows

.

o

f

.

my

mind . . .

.

.

.

s

o

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

I

.

h

o

l

d

.

tight

.

t

o

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

.

.

.

o

f

goodbye.

Reflection: This is a melancholy-themed poem in which the affected party is witnessing the final moments of someone who meant a lot to him or her. It might be the final moments of a romantic relationship, of someone suffering from injury or illness, or of a dear friend or family member going down a troubled path or turning away from the affected party for some reason.

I wrote much of this poem over a week or so in reflection of one of my favorite movies: “Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool.”  I played the wonderful song “A Million Parachutes” by The Sixpence None the Richer, and this song served as the inspiration for the final phase of poem refinements (I played the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the final stages of the poem). This poem primarily reflects the sad end of the film but was important enough to me to keep trying and trying until it finally captured what I was seeking. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ WINE, RHYTHM, AND RHYME (A SMILE OF SPRINGTIME) ▪︎°☆

I

thought

.

o

f

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

smiled . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

wondered

how

your

life

had

gone

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while

you

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine . . .

.

.

.

I

.

w

a

s

.

surprised

.

t

o

.

find

how

many

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs

.

h

a

d

.

gone

by . . .

.

.

.

 ~ how

many

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs

.

h

a

d

.

gone

by . . .

.

.

.

since

.

w

e

.

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime . . .

.

.

.

We

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime . . .

.

.

.

back

when

the

days

.

o

f

.

me

.

a

n

d

.

you

were

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

 ~ they

.

w

e

r

e

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

we

knew

we

could

.

n

o

t

.

lose . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

could

.

n

o

t

.

lose

.

i

n

.

those

restless

days

.

o

f

.

youth . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

love

.

w

a

s

.

more

a

mood

than

a

proof . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

we

could

move,

.

a

n

d

.

pursue,

.

a

n

d

.

do

whatever

.

w

e

.

wanted

to . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

could

.

d

o

.

whatever

.

w

e

.

wanted

to . . .

.

.

.

i

n

those

restless

days

.

o

f

.

youth . . .

.

.

.

when

everything

.

w

a

s

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

 ~ when

everything

.

w

a

s

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

including

me

.

a

n

d

.

you . . .

.

.

.

How

much

.

t

i

m

e

.

passed

by . . .

.

.

.

since

.

w

e

.

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime

.

a

t

.

the

starting

line . . .

.

.

.

 ~ since

.

w

e

.

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime

.

a

t

.

the 

starting

line . . .

.

.

.

igniting

.

a

n

d

.

exciting

.

t

h

e

.

eyes

.

o

f

.

delight

which

came

alive

.

a

n

d

.

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles

.

a

t

.

a

time . . .

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles . . .

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles . . .

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles

.

a

t

.

a

time . . .

.

.

.

 ~ those

eyes

.

o

f

.

delight,

alive

.

i

n

.

our

springtime

smiles . . .

.

.

.

when

.

t

h

e

.

words,

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm,

.

a

n

d

.

the

rhyme

were

.

l

i

k

e

.

wine . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

everything

.

w

a

s

.

fine . . .

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

everything

.

w

a

s

.

fine . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

could

still

.

g

o

.

right . . .

.

.

.

 ~ everything

 could

still

.

g

o

.

right

.

i

n

.

time . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

we

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

o

f

.

starshine . . .

.

.

.

We

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

.

.

.

We

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

.

.

.

We

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

o

f

.

starshine . . .

.

.

.

nice,

.

a

n

d

.

bright,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

high,

.

a

n

d

.

wide . . .

.

.

.

mile,

after

mile,

after

mile,

after

mile . . .

.

.

.

smile,

after

smile,

after

smile,

after

smile . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

we

.

h

a

d

.

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

wine,

.

a

n

d

.

candlelight

.

o

n

.

our

side . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

.

h

a

d

.

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

wine,

.

a

n

d

.

candlelight

.

o

n

.

our

side . . .

.

.

when

.

w

e

.

shined

.

o

u

r

.

springtime

smiles . . .

.

.

.

 ~ when

.

w

e

.

shined

.

o

u

r

.

springtime

smiles . . .

.

.

.

I

thought

.

o

f

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

smiled . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

wondered

how

your

life

had

gone

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while

you

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine.

Reflection: This was a popular romantic-themed poem I wrote back in August 2022 which largely reflects looking back on a cherished, one-of-a-kind, past romance – and is something most of us have probably experienced in our lives. Romance seemed so much easier in the days of youth when expectations were much lower, and we were less judgmental and more forgiving towards each other.

The opening lines to this poem came to me while I was at New Smyrna Beach. The remainder of the poem came into being a couple of weeks later by the accidental intersection of one of my favorite movies (“Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool.”) and an old song on the radio that I had never heard before on the drive back from Daytona Beach (“Come Saturday Morning” by The Sandpipers which was a tiny but catchy echo from back in 1970 – its peak position on the charts was at #17). And although this song was not in the movie, and not much of a hit, it really hit me and fit perfectly with what I was reflecting on and trying to capture.

The song served as the primary inspiration for the poem which took several iterations to write (while playing the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem). If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ TO DANCE THE DAYS AWAY (AND DANCE AWAY THE DAYS) ▪︎°☆

°☆

☆°

°☆

.

.

.

.

.

.

I

wanted

.

t

o

.

love

you . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

would

have

loved

you . . .

.

.

.

anyway . . .

.

.

.

b

u

t

we

.

danced

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

away . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

danced

.

away

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

danced

.

away

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

strayed

i

n

t

o

the

.

fade . . .

.

.

.

°☆

☆°

°☆

.

.

.

.

.

.

In

.

t

h

e

.

pale,

gray,

nostalgic

.

haze . . .

.

.

.

I

.

saw

.

t

h

e

.

trace

.

o

f

.

your

.

face . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

came

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

place,

where

.

w

e

.

once

.

embraced . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

came

across

.

t

h

e

.

place,

where

.

w

e

.

once

.

embraced,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

danced

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

away . . .

.

.

.

We

.

embraced,

.

a

n

d

.

played,

.

a

n

d

.

danced

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

We

.

embraced,

.

a

n

d

.

played,

.

a

n

d

.

danced

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

We

.

embraced,

.

a

n

d

.

played,

.

a

n

d

.

danced

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

away . . .

.

.

.

b

u

t

then

.

w

e

.

strayed

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

.

fade . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

strayed

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

.

fade . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

everything

.

changed . . .

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

everything

.

changed

.

a

n

d

.

was

.

never

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

again . . .

.

.

.

i

n

the

.

ways

.

w

e

.

would

.

blame,

.

a

n

d

.

complain,

.

a

n

d

.

fail

.

t

o

.

engage . . .

.

.

.

 ~ in

.

t

h

e

.

ways

.

w

e

.

would

.

rage,

.

a

n

d

.

shame,

.

a

n

d

.

just

turn

.

away . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

would

.

j

u

s

t

.

turn

.

away,

.

a

n

d

.

let

.

t

h

e

.

memories

.

decay . . .

.

.

.

b

u

t

still,

.

I

.

would

.

h

a

v

e

.

loved

.

you . . .

.

.

.

anyway . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

would

.

h

a

v

e

.

loved

.

you . . .

.

.

.

anyway . . .

.

.

.

In

.

t

h

e

.

pale,

gray,

nostalgic

.

haze . . .

.

.

.

I

.

saw

.

t

h

e

.

trace

.

o

f

.

your

.

face . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

came

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

place,

where

.

w

e

.

once

.

embraced . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

came

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

place,

where

.

w

e

.

once

.

embraced,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

danced

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

away . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

danced

.

away

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

We

danced

.

away

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

We

danced

.

away

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

We

danced

.

away

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

strayed

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

.

fade.

Reflection: This is a romantic-themed poem in which the affected party is looking back on a cherished romance from the distant past, wonders if something could have been done to save it and ponders whether he or she will ever experience something like that again. This poem came into being by the accidental intersection of one of my favorite movies (“Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool.”) and an old song on the radio that I had never heard before on the drive back from Daytona Beach (“Come Saturday Morning” by The Sandpipers which was a tiny but catchy echo from back in 1970 – its peak position on the charts was at #17). And although this song was not in the movie, and not much of a hit, it really hit me and fit perfectly with what I was reflecting on and trying to capture. This poem pretty much wrote itself (while playing the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem). The poem was written fairly quickly. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ A TUNE IN BLUE (FROM ACROSS THE ROOM) ▪︎°☆

I

loved

you

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

across

.

t

h

e

.

room . . .

.

.

.

when

.

t

h

e

.

moment

moved

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

music

.

o

f

.

the

moon . . .

.

.

.

 ~ it

moved . . .

.

.

.

 ~ it

moved . . .

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

music

.

o

f

.

the

moon . . .

.

.

.

i

n

pursuit

.

o

f

.

a

tune

.

s

o

.

blue . . .

.

.

.

i

t

consumed . . .

.

.

.

 It

consumed

.

t

h

e

.

mood . . .

.

.

.

 It

consumed

.

t

h

e

.

room . . .

.

.

.

brewing

wish

.

w

i

t

h

.

want . . .

.

.

.

rooted

.

i

n

.

gloom . . .

.

.

.

 ~ It

brewed

wish

.

w

i

t

h

.

want . . .

.

.

.

rooted

.

i

n

.

gloom . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

the

moment

moved . . .

.

.

.

The

moment

moved

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

music

.

o

f

.

the

moon . . .

.

.

.

brewing

wish

.

w

i

t

h

.

want . . .

.

.

.

rooted

.

i

n

.

gloom . . .

.

.

.

 ~ It

brewed

wish

.

w

i

t

h

.

want . . .

.

.

.

rooted

.

i

n

.

gloom . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

I

loved

you . . .

.

.

.

I

loved

you . . .

.

.

.

I

loved

you

.

.

.

i

n

a

tune

s

o

blue . . .

.

.

.

i

t

consumed . . .

.

.

.

I

loved

you . . .

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

across

.

t

h

e

.

room . . .

.

.

.

when

.

t

h

e

.

moment

moved.

Reflection: This is a melancholy-themed poem in which the contemplator is reflecting on someone he or she felt something special for but for some reason could not create the mutual, romantic connection desired – or perhaps did not even really try. I wrote this poem in reflection of watching a drummer in a band when I was at New Smyrna Beach – someone for some reason I just instantly loved. I talked with him briefly and even dreamt about him. He was so fun to watch. Such a cool, cool guy.

I played different songs trying to capture the mood of this poem. In the end, I played the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “First Thing in the Morning” by Secret Sun. This poem took several hours and several iterations to write. So, it didn’t come easy like some of the other poems I have written. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ INTO THE FADE (LOST UPON THE PAGE) ▪︎°☆

I

.

wandered

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

.

fade . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

came

.

across

.

a

.

name,

lost

.

u

p

o

n

.

a

.

page . . .

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

lost

.

u

p

o

n

.

a

.

page,

hidden

.

away . . .

.

.

.

 ~ hidden

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

those

.

yesterdays

.

o

f

.

shame,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

blame,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

same

.

.

o

l

d

.

.

same . . .

.

.

.

 ~ hidden

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

those

.

yesterdays

.

o

f

.

pain,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

gray,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

shadows

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

remain . . .

.

.

.

 ~ a

lost

.

name

.

u

p

o

n

.

the

.

page,

with

.

a

.

face

.

t

h

a

t

.

said

everything

.

would

.

change

.

a

n

d

.

work

.

o

u

t

.

okay . . .

.

.

.

someday . . .

.

.

.

 ~ everything

would

.

change

.

a

n

d

.

work

.

o

u

t

.

okay . . .

.

.

.

someday . . .

.

.

.

i

n

.

.

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

place,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

in

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

age . . .

.

.

.

~ yes,

everything

.

would

.

change

.

a

n

d

.

work

.

o

u

t

.

okay . . .

.

.

.

someday . . .

.

.

.

i

n

.

.

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

place,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

in

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

age . . .

.

.

.

said

.

t

h

e

.

face,

with

.

a

.

name,

lost

.

u

p

o

n

.

a

.

page.

Reflection: This is a reflective-themed poem in which the contemplator recalls a forgotten someone who inspired or really meant something to him or her in the distant past when things were not so good. I wrote much of this poem fairly quickly while walking the beach at night in New Smyrna. This poem only took a few minutes of rewrites to finalize. It pretty much wrote itself.

☆°▪︎ THE SUMMER OF ALL TIME ▪︎°☆

It

.

w

a

s

.

the

springtime

.

o

f

.

our

lives . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

the

summer

.

o

f

.

all

time . . .

.

.

.

when

eyes,

met

eyes,

met

eyes . . .

.

.

.

 ~ when

eyes,

met

eyes,

met

eyes . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

cried . . .

.

.

.

Eyes,

met

eyes,

met

eyes . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

cried . . .

.

.

.

i

n

the

springtime

.

o

f

.

our

lives . . .

.

.

.

 ~ in

.

t

h

e

.

summer

.

o

f

.

all

time . . .

.

.

.

It

.

w

a

s

.

the

summer

.

o

f

.

all

time . . .

.

.

.

that

continued

.

t

o

.

shine

.

t

h

e

.

light,

all

across

.

t

h

e

.

years

gone

by . . .

.

.

.

 ~ all

across

.

t

h

e

.

pages

.

o

f

.

prize

.

a

n

d

.

price . . .

.

.

.

 ~ all

across

.

t

h

e

.

pages

.

o

f

.

pride

.

a

n

d

.

plight . . .

.

.

.

i

t

continued

.

t

o

.

shine . . .

.

.

.

 ~ it

continued

.

t

o

.

shine

.

t

h

a

t

.

light . . .

.

.

.

s

o

let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

.

.

.

Let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

.

.

.

Let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

.

.

.

Let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

.

.

.

time,

after

time,

after

time . . .

.

.

.

mile,

after

mile,

after

mile . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

sigh,

after

sigh,

after

sigh . . .

.

.

.

Let

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

it

.

w

a

s

.

the

springtime

.

o

f

.

our

lives . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

the

summer

.

o

f

.

all

time . . .

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

the

summer

.

o

f

.

all

time . . .

.

.

.

when

eyes,

met

eyes,

met

eyes . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

cried.

Reflection: This is a romantic-themed poem in which the affected party looks back fondly on a romance from the distant past. He or she is saddened by the realization that nothing as wonderful has been experienced over the many years since then.

I wrote the lines “it was the springtime of our lives and the summer of all time” and the poem pretty much wrote itself from that. I played the wonderful song “First Thing in the Morning” by Secret Sun and the poem pretty much wrote itself (I played the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the final stages of the poem). If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ A WARM AND WELCOME GRAY (HAUNTS ME AGAIN TODAY) ▪︎°☆

I

felt

.

t

h

e

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

gray

today . . .

.

.

.

 ~ that

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

gray

.

f

r

o

m

.

that

day

.

i

n

.

the

rain . . .

.

.

.

 ~ that

day

.

i

n

.

the

rain

when

something

which

.

a

t

.

first

seemed

.

s

o

.

strange

.

a

n

d

.

full

.

o

f

.

shame . . .

.

.

.

became

.

s

o

.

great

.

o

n

.

the

page . . .

.

.

.

 ~ it

became

.

s

o

.

great

.

o

n

.

the

page,

.

i

n

.

later

days . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

we

engaged

.

a

n

d

.

restrained . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

engaged

.

a

n

d

.

restrained . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

engaged . . .

.

.

.

We

engaged . . .

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

feelings

awake

.

a

n

d

.

ablaze . . .

.

.

.

We

engaged . . .

.

.

.

We

engaged . . .

.

.

.

i

n

the

haste

.

o

f

.

a

tender

age . . .

.

.

.

We

engaged . . .

.

.

.

We

engaged . . .

.

.

.

We

engaged . . .

.

.

.

We

engaged

.

.

.

a

n

d

everything

changed . . .

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

.

w

e

.

engaged

.

.

.

a

n

d

everything

changed . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

was

never

.

t

h

e

.

same . . .

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

never

.

t

h

e

.

same

again . . .

.

.

.

I

felt

.

t

h

e

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

gray . . .

.

.

.

I

felt

.

t

h

e

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

gray . . .

.

.

.

I

felt

.

t

h

e

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

gray . . .

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

that

day

.

i

n

.

the

rain . . .

.

.

.

 ~ that

day

.

i

n

.

the

rain,

which

became

.

s

o

.

great

.

o

n

.

the

page . . .

.

.

.

i

t

haunts

me

again

today.

Reflection: This was a popular reflective-themed poem that I wrote back in August of 2022 about an awkward, romantic encounter in the days of youth. I played the wonderful, haunting song “First Thing in the Morning” by Secret Sun and the poem pretty much wrote itself from that (playing the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem). It was written fairly quickly – like a couple of hours or so. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ A PALE GOODBYE (ROLLING WITH THE TIDE) ▪︎°☆

You

did

.

n

o

t

.

say . . .

.

.

.

b

u

t

I

knew

.

i

t

.

anyway . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

knew

.

i

t

.

anyway . . .

.

.

.

I

knew

.

i

t

.

in

.

t

h

e

.

way,

.

t

h

e

.

days

would

race

away,

.

a

n

d

.

try

.

t

o

.

escape . . .

.

.

.

I

knew

.

i

t

.

in

.

t

h

e

.

way

that

page,

after

page,

after

page,

after

page

everything 

remained

.

t

h

e

.

same . . .

.

.

.

Everything

remained

.

t

h

e

.

same . . .

.

.

.

 ~ the

once,

vibrant

colors

trading

.

f

o

r

.

grays . . .

.

.

.

 ~ the

buying

.

o

f

.

more

lace

.

a

n

d

.

new

games

.

t

o

.

play . . .

.

.

.

t

o

prove

we’re

still

okay . . .

.

.

.

We

played

those

games . . .

.

.

.

 We

played

those

games . . .

.

.

.

 We

played

those

games . . .

.

.

.

t

o

prove

we’re

still

okay . . .

.

.

.

 ~ to

prove

we’re

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

okay . . .

.

.

.

even

though

when

.

w

e

.

embrace

we’re

far,

far

away . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we’re

far,

far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

place

where

we

.

a

r

e

.

today . . .

.

.

.

 ~ far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

that

place

where

.

w

e

.

wait,

.

a

n

d

.

age,

a

n

d

watch

.

i

t

.

fade . . .

.

.

.

 We

watch

.

i

t

.

fade . . .

.

.

.

 We

watch

i

t

fade . . .

.

.

.

 ~ the

romance . . .

.

.

.

 ~ the

rhythm . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

the

rhyme . . .

.

.

.

carelessly

rolling

.

o

u

t

.

with

.

t

h

e

.

tide . . .

.

.

.

It

rolls

.

o

u

t

.

with

.

t

h

e

.

tide . . .

.

.

.

It

rolls

.

o

u

t

.

with

.

t

h

e

.

tide . . .

.

.

.

It

rolls

.

o

u

t

.

with

.

t

h

e

.

tide . . .

.

.

.

without

.

s

o

.

much

.

a

s

.

a

somber

sigh . . .

.

.

.

a

pale

goodbye . . .

.

.

.

o

r

even

a

warming

word

.

t

o

.

write . . .

.

.

.

You

did

.

n

o

t

.

say . . .

.

.

.

b

u

t

I

knew

.

i

t

.

anyway . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

knew

.

i

t

.

in

.

t

h

e

.

way,

the

days

raced

away,

.

a

n

d

.

tried

.

t

o

.

escape . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

knew

.

i

t

.

in

.

t

h

e

.

way

that

page,

after

page,

after

page . . .

.

.

.

everything 

remained

.

t

h

e

.

same.

Reflection:  This was a popular romantic-themed poem I wrote back in July of 2022 about a fading romance and the subtle cues along the way. I wrote much of this poem at Daytona Beach (at least a good draft). The opening words came to me and the poem sort of wrote itself from there. At home, I refined it using the song “Picture You” by The Amazing playing in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ THE RELENTLESS ROAD (OF ECHOES) ▪︎°☆

I

.

went

.

.

d

o

w

n

.

.

that

.

road

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

the

.

shadows

.

roam . . .

.

.

.

I

.

went

.

.

d

o

w

n

.

.

that

.

road

.

o

f

.

all

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

places,

I

.

used

.

t

o

.

go . . .

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

places

I

.

used

.

t

o

.

go,

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

smoke,

.

a

n

d

.

sex,

.

a

n

d

.

blow,

would

.

fight

.

f

o

r

.

control

.

o

f

.

the

.

soul . . .

.

.

.

 ~ they

would

.

fight

.

f

o

r

.

control

.

o

f

.

the

.

soul . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

smile,

.

a

n

d

.

moan,

.

a

n

d

.

echo . . .

.

.

.

They

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

smile,

.

a

n

d

.

moan,

.

a

n

d

.

echo . . .

.

.

.

They

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

smile,

.

a

n

d

.

moan,

.

a

n

d

.

echo . . .

.

.

.

They

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

smile,

.

a

n

d

.

moan,

.

a

n

d

.

echo . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

.

again

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

go . . .

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

.

again

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

go

.

back

.

.

d

o

w

n

.

.

that

.

road . . .

.

.

.

 ~ I

would

.

g

o

.

back

.

.

d

o

w

n

.

.

that

.

road

.

o

f

.

smoke,

.

a

n

d

.

sex,

.

a

n

d

.

blow,

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

smiled,

.

a

n

d

.

moaned,

.

a

n

d

.

echoed . . .

.

.

.

leading

.

f

a

r

.

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

home . . .

.

.

.

 ~ leading

.

f

a

r

.

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

home . . .

.

.

.

d

o

w

n

that

.

relentless

.

a

n

d

.

ravishing,

rapturous

.

road,

.

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

the

.

shadows

.

roam.

Reflection: This is a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2022 where the affected party cannot seem to break out of a negative cycle of temptation flirtations that repeatedly consume the soul. I was looking back on the age of disco, and the rampant smoke, sex, drugs, drink, and such as the primary influence when writing this poem. I used the song “Rock On” by David Essex to play in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

☆°▪︎ BE BOLD AND GROW (TAKE THAT ROAD AND GO) ▪︎°☆

Never

plateau . . .

.

.

.

Always

.

b

e

.

bold,

.

a

n

d

.

grow . . .

.

.

.

Take

.

t

h

a

t

.

road

.

a

n

d

.

!go!

.

.

.

 ~ even

.

i

f

.

you

do

.

n

o

t

.

know . . .

.

.

.

 ~ even

.

i

f

.

the

.

s

u

n

.

does

.

n

o

t

.

show . . .

.

.

.

 ~ even

.

i

f

.

the

pace

seems

slow . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

you

feel

.

a

l

l

.

alone . . .

.

.

.

Never

plateau . . .

.

.

.

Never

plateau . . .

.

.

.

Never

plateau . . .

.

.

.

Always

.

b

e

.

bold,

.

a

n

d

.

grow . . .

.

.

.

Take

.

t

h

a

t

.

road . . .

.

.

.

Take

.

t

h

a

t

.

road . . .

.

.

.

Take

.

t

h

a

t

.

road . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

!go!

.

.

.

!go!

.

.

.

!go!

Reflection:  This was a popular inspirational/hope-themed poem I wrote back in July of 2022. I wrote and posted the phrase: “Don’t plateau… Be bold and go!” and then added the word: “grow.” I then quickly turned that into a poem.