on heaven’s trail –
in more than just a binge
livin on a high wire
into the wide open view
into the now,
in the sweet luvin we’re makin’
time after time,
makin’ our own way
day after day,
and wipin’ away
the past into beautiful rushes
with sunshine in the everylastin,
all so special in the songs to stay.


pretty darlin –
in this meet n greet,
gotta toast that,
to feel the heat
into your everylastin scenery,
gotta post that stat
in the back seat,
leaving good times
in the shares so cinnamon
of your endless song
in all that crystal sweet sugar synonym,
taking in every night
til every mornin
in the dances unlimited
made out of heaven pretty darlin.


it takes a lot
of starvin in metaphor,
as if participatin in the hunger games,
to show a fitness of toughness
in giant duel zip lines,
like so aerial in the thrills
w no snow required,
in adventurous features
amongst the maples n the evergreens,
as if hittin the slopes
in findley lake ny,
to show my up in the air,
in a that’s where,
my bungy trampoline
in the scenic scenes,
is like a widespread –
in all that’s so sugar shack
keepin me hot in the summer,
no matter if it means –
a keep on sacrificing
in the only uplift
that keeps me defining
the way i gotta participate
in the hunger games.


like a brick wall
built in the layers,
it takes heavy duty transportation
in the wet n sand n gravel mixes
to reach a site of designation
and plug holes for a new foundation.
like any metaphor,
the entrepreneur is a diversifier
in the behaviors
of captivating pleasures,
in bringing it to doorsteps,
like a man creating new recipes
in the swirls left by a batters mix
poured into the cake pans,
only then to come hot out of the oven
to show it takes the hot n cold
in bringing it different,
seemingly so hard to reach
in conventional ways,
until it engages in the breakthroughs
to understand being open-minded
is an adventurous enterprise
in the trade show associations
of modern technology
to cut loose and bust in the scene,
so that opportunity,
becomes so die-hard clear.


here i go,
taking a little journey
in a spinnin back trackin
in the songs written
held for so long
in silent lip smittens
so quietly breezin in a chorus come along,
in the so long ago,
as if ridin a night train in chicago
with her stylin in sicilian –
take it all in of her deep roots so blue
sippin n a recordin
like on an old cottage piano
listenin in the learning notes
in vitality so melodic in key
in the mix feelin free
into the spinnin wheel headlands,
teachin a kid in the farmlands
how to sing into her deep indigo blues.


it is here
that i carry it around
like a chef’s hat
made to last
with old-fashioned craft
with a blend in relief mixes
prominent in the heritage designs
in the whistlin varieties
of two-toned whistles,
n light a match –
in a keep on invitin change
all across the cultural corn exchange
in the grains throughout the cascade range
near the coastal shores
in the creativity delights
leavin songs through mail slots
with brass accents on doors,
like a hotshot
poured out of the kettle
at a breakfast table
for two in n almond aroma tea.


do ya know
what it feels like,
when ya head up
the staircase to the balcony,
just to listen
to her laughter,
leavin ya to think
all that physical stamina
required in her dance classes,
is wearing ya out,
and just gotta take a blasted break
in a novel that’s been on the make –
in a for pete’s sakes,
what’s it gotta take!?!?!?