If Everyone Had a Skunk


If everyone had a skunk

Would all smell of funk?

Or forget that we stunk?

Would it carry in the breeze?

Or make us all sneeze?

If everyone had this pet

All would love it I bet!

My jest do you get?

How could you not?

This lingering thought.

If everyone had just one

Wouldn’t life just be fun?

Or would you run?

From the stank or the stink

Faster than one can blink

If everyone had a skunk

In your life added spunk.

Who would’ve thunk?



Such a charmer as only chromaticity will grace contrast from beams of light casting down through thick sponge-like clouds overhead.

Truly unknown as to how, but really does one care?

Oh sure written are words of science with grand explanations of it all, filling heads with nonsense of fancy librettos such as chlorophyll.

Progressing so close on the fine line of beauty and justification that some actually miss the splendor of the attraction.

But wonderment not far off and never alludes the curious who could be and should be considered the rhymester of all poets.

Tickling a fancy perhaps?

Anthocyanins are doubtless wonders foreseen as spectacles of the universe when stupefaction takes hold forcing the voluptuous pigment onto eyes of disbelief.

And before it’s known, it is gone.

For reasons unbeknownst to the lyricist who hasn’t a rhythm, reason, or justification.

       Yet it matters not~

Loved From Afar



Days turned into months that slowly become a year.
Opened my heart suddenly, it’s never been so clear.
The conviction never wavered, although it’s known,
Bound by responsibility is what I chose.
Commitments tame and cage, yes it is what it is.
Awaits patiently, the heart’s ready to give.
My hand was held today, as the sadness worn through.
It was him today, hand on mine; only us two.
The predicament is clearly understood.
Abandonment not, even though I could.
Nowhere I’d rather go, I belong where I stay.
No changes not yet, even on a day like today.
Simple gestures with soft kissable lips.
A turn of crimson cheek, as freedom starts to slip.
My smile, it’s yours, I give it to you.
As for now, it will solely have to do.
Pulled out of desolations rue,
to face laden and heavy truths.
All is bearable now, all thanks to you.

My Fungus Grew Fungi

It’s a sad, sad day; a day like today

A sad day

The words come to dance but will not play

A hopeless day as eyes stare in disbelief

Full with grief

The wholesome goodness taken by a thief

I tried to save them, if only I could

And should

Heavy my heart with knowledge I stood

Why oh why must it be tossed away?

Nothing more can I say; about today

A sad, sad day.