"Lovers Lake"
Gouache & Watercolor
12" x 18"

Knocking, rapping, at the front door.
A familiar feeling, I've been here before.

Same time, same place.
An undeniable grace.

On the lips of giants and the hilts of man.
A hum is heard, from when time began.

Not a word was spoke, though many were thought.
Not a fish was eaten, though many were caught.

Looked over and inspected, as off times before.
Thrown back to the lake, to breed some more.

Thoughts are like pools, some sustain life.
Others hold struggle, sorrow, and strife.

So which will yours be? When the sun is in halt?
A lush flowing river? Or a puddle thick with salt?
Gouache & Watercolor
12" x 18"

As they lay, quiet and still.
It crept on in, of its own free will.

It shrunk them down, nestled to a leaf
And did this all, to be discreet.

It twisted and pulled, wringed and twined
Catching the mist that escaped his mind.

She watched as it did so, night after night
And sunk deeper and deeper at the ghastly sight.

Of the man growing thin, withered, and ole
Knowing it was the Boohag, stealing his soul.
"Honey Pot"
Gouache & Watercolor
12" x 18"

Knobby knees, that sprawl like trees.
Wrap around me, with the smallest of ease.

Buzzing, humming, and vibrating, please.
Please, let me dine with the honey bees.

The ones that gather from the ripe poppy fields.
Who's tincture is rich, but the smallest of yields.

A taste so saccharine that it burns my lips.
Who's value so precious, the world stands in eclipse.

It could be spent and cast, like a withered old husk.
So one last time, I might envelop the musk.

Of a satiating sense so familiar, but rare.
That it straightens my act, and curls my hair.

A life time of joy could never compare, 
To a moment beneath that sweet golden snare.
"Sleep Walking"
Gouache & Watercolor
12" x 18"

Brittle stones break, on waves from the sun.
Walking across the desert, just ain't no fun.

When every step could be the cause, of your final demise.
Where the creatures look on, with the hungriest eyes.

There's no way to hide or disguise, raw and exposed.
No way to conceal, what was once sacred and closed.

Kept precious and pink, wrought flesh must walk.
Across clay and stone, rock and chalk.

Until you reach a land, with arms held wide.
Or lest you wither away, from the inside.
"Cats Cradle"
12" x 18"
Watercolor & Gouache

Drenched by nights vast ladle.
The cats lay down, in their cradle.

Bugs hum low and keep a distance, as to not disturb.
A generous gesture, for in their nature, its unheard.

Air conditions are cool, and refuse to shift.
The height of the peak, is a considerable lift.

Stars ripple and sparkle, on a dusty horizon.
Visions ahead, are worth keeping eyes on.

The sky and ground form an infinite night.
Immense as it might seem, its quite alright.

For when theres no one, you'll always have a friend.
The voids embrace is omnipotent, and knows no end.
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