Empty

A fire once burned Soul longed to be known But now the flame Seeks less to be shone   Melancholy starts to linger As the days grow more trite The burn starts to fade and spark loses light   Snap out, some will say (Like one wanted to quit) The spirit still yearns But the
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Perspective

Morning breaks through the window like an old friend who has visited to cheer you up. I arise from my borrowed bed and gaze out of my window at a beautiful Sunday morning.  I see a church in the distance and consider that, even though I don’t go to that one, soon people will gather
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Greed

My job with the railroad puts me in places sometimes that most people never get to see.  Some days we stop our engine under the interstate while we wait on a signal to proceed.  We do this especially in the summer time when it is hot and we need the shade.  What many of you
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The Good Ole Days

Somewhere in our distant memory we develop a picture of our childhood. This portrait is painted with the loveliness of youth and the longing for of years gone by. We were joyful, vibrant children with nothing to do but enjoy the fruits of innocence. We do not recall the broken bones or chicken pox we
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Sometimes

Sometimes I wander off Not so you would notice, just off Toward the deep end But not all in the deep Just the edge of the shallows Pondering what’s in the deep I don’t go there because Who knows what’s out there And besides, I know you’re watching What will you say if I go
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How to Tell a Tale

Technology today has brought people together like never before.  One can talk to a relative while looking at them on the other side of the country or make a new friend on the other side of the world.  Opportunity to learn has never been so great.  We are all connected.  I have noticed a trend
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Gone Fishin'

I used to fish from time to time. Not like Bill Dance or anything, just head off by myself to the bank of some pond or perhaps, if I was really lucky, climb into a flat-bottom boat that might happen to be hidden in the weeds at whatever hole I was bumming around at. I
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When I Grow Up

Sometimes there are things in my life that I do not recall but someone else tells me they happened.  My mother will do this from time to time.  She told me that once, when I was but a lad, we were out in the yard playing one day.  That day happened to be garbage pick-up
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Anticipation

Anticipation With bated breath we sit and wait For the rising sun, he won’t be late To see his wonder and feel his heat We hang upon the edge of seat We know the time he will appear His being late I do not fear He will be grand, this rising fellow Now the horizon
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Contentment

I woke up early this morning in Monument Valley waiting for the sun to rise.  We have been on the road for a week now and have seen many wonderful things.  I love to travel into the Western U.S.  There is a beauty here that I cannot put into words.  I am constantly taking pictures here but
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