[Click the picture above to hear music composed by the author]

My words confuse.

They labor on when

All they want is rest.

And so I turn to  music,

The art I like the best.

My songs my words shall grace

So let the wordless complement,

Though not take meaning's place.

I tire of chasing votes.

I'll settle for some pretty notes,

Songs that gold-like glisten.

For any who would listen

Beauty for myself alone?

I guess, if no one else is home.

Saying "no one" isn't fair.

My little dogs find rapture

When I play,

One on my lap,

One on the floor there,

Moving not, awaiting more.

And my pet birds,

From their spacious cage,

Sing critics' praise.

There are worse ways

To spend my days.

My garden grows,

Demanding daily care.

Groomed and wild in balance.

I need to dust the valance,

Vacuum floors,

Of housework

There is always more.

So, why on Earth

Should I write poems too,

Especially ones read

By a few?

What liberty is

"Nothing more to say!"

Like Pan Himself

Upon the  pipes I'll play.

Life abounds,

A garden filled

With thrushes' sounds.

"Dear Robins, I will

Never sing like you.

So let my simple efforts do."

Words? No, no!

Away with you!

I've tried to tell you this before.

I've sent you breakup texts

And  letters.

Can't you see, we're hexed,

We're through?

I love your sister, Music, better.

And so I leave with this,

Good friends in every nation,

Seek life, and joy, and light,

Not mere obligation.

Let poems fill your heart,

If not your purse,

You could do worse.

As for me,

The Muse of pen and I

Have had our day.

Muse, do not sigh,

Others need you

More than I.

Thus I part.

I've listened to my heart.

Stay well, 

Stay true,

Good-bye.

Adieu.

I've begun to include my original music with some of my poetry. When you encounter  it I hope you'll listen.  I remain as always a reader ready to support the good work of others.