This blog was created for others who will hopefully glean something from the words I have written.Not much to say except I ran off from an orphanage when I was 13 years old.Hopped on a freight train and joined the circus.Have been wandering ever since.I am grateful to be alive and my only desire is to leave something here for others to gain from.If I can accomplish that then I have successfully reached my intended goal.All we have left in the end is our legacy.
A hand reaches out Grasping for moonbeams Like silent memories From out of the past Within the mind as if Yesterday seems only A thought away Beyond such horizons Searching the memories Elusive ghosts Clinging to the innermost Recesses of the mind There is a certain lonliness Only the essence remains Imagination of the laughter Great words that were spoken Words of wisdom Yet it was taken for granted Passing through my hands Falling unto the earth Like a great puzzle Attempting to pick up the pieces It sometimes eludes capture Fading away Dancing moonbeams Teasing upon the water Causing me to return once again In search of the memories That inhabit within
I have waited for thee Pondering in reflection By the waters edge In the cool autumn breeze As wings of birds Carry my hopes across Such darkened skies Which kneel towards me Glancing upon my cheek In gesture of a gentle kiss Melting into my heart In the essence of time My eyes seek Looking for reassurance Deep in my mind I already know My wait for you is in earnest Yet this day belongs to me
Crowds gather in anticipation Fluttering wings Nervous feet shifting Ear shattering noise Reaching its pitch Only the bleating of the mother An obstacle to a feast Upon the innocent That which has fallen Deserted by the flock As it lay bare upon the ground Before the masses Ready to pounce Yet the sheep call out As the crows gather Drawing closer ~ Momentarily the ewe stirs Clumsily it stands Awakening from unconsciousness In its zeal she has fallen No longer stunned Returning to the waiting flock Crows gasping in despair At the loss Quelling the fever of the pitch
