Poems creation...

I sit and think
my ears do ring:
my life is nothing
yet everything.

Words do flow
as blood thru my veins;
wild horses true steeds
snugly harnessed of
lightening flashed reins.

Wooded path gravely darkened
naked moonlight with misted fog
does jealously make love;
blackened coach
wheeled of fury
whiskyed curses doomsday verses
chiseled equine muscled strength
divinely fueled from above.

Onward onward
go forth thru the night:


in progress...