Sometimes the mood strikes.

Other times it goes on strike.

Let’s just not strike the colors.

~

You triumphed over

every passing mood and wrote

anyway. That’s all that counts.

So many chances

to worry, so many times

to return home to the breath.

~

When returning home,

finding only empty fears,

tends to take one’s breath away.

I am exhausted!

Worn out by wearing the hats

and bridging the gaps all day!

~

A gap day or two

where you take off those hats and

simply rest is best.

 Knock, knock, who’s there? Knox.

Knox who? It’s the pits. No bull.

I need a home too.

~

Anyone can find

some old place to rest their head,

but that ain’t what makes a home.

Beyond any doubt,

what seems logical to some,

is irrational to me!

~

They say one man’s truth

is another man’s lie and

his meat another’s poison.

A creator’s joy –

to see what emerges is

far better than expected.

~

Looking at this piece…

that’s but one of many gems

we took from our creator!

Teak and old iron,

salvaged from deck box and chest,

becomes patio table.

~

Visionaries see

beyond what is and transform

what was into something new.

Rather than a force

to reckon with, he’s a farce

 to be ashamed of.

~

History will regard

this defective President

as a pox upon our house.

All great men reside

somewhere on a line between

hero and a horse’s ass.

~

And every woman,

great or not, has to point out

where he now resides.

Possible autumn

comforts: colorful trees, Mitch

ditched, and a new president.

~

Any one of these

would reduce autumnal blues,

two or three would be gravy.