There’s a strange kind of power in the eleventh hour That washes over me every night. A feeble light inside shines and burns brighter As the moments of the day slowly fade. I’m free and falling through the layers of myself, Making friends with who I’ve become since yesterday. Potential towers in the eleventh hour; Preparing to rise with the sun. Memories dance in the shadows. Often the moon peeks in and shines A spotlight on my secrets and fears Or a friend who stands the test of time.

Every poet sings of Spring, But I am awed by Autumn. Leaves dance, swirling flashing To tunes carried on cool brisk air. Brittle bursts of fiery red and gold Forstall the sleep of snowy blankets, And the year holds its bated breath. Nostalgia nods its invisible head. Memories mull in the mind like cider. Reflections ripple in waves and break Into understanding and contentment. Friends and family cram together Like living cornucopias in small houses. Literal and metaphysical fruit ripens And is gathered for fuel against The cold waiting winter that approaches.

It’s 3:19 amMy brain’s avoiding sleep again.Heart is anxious.Lips are dry.No more tears left in my eyes. Tomorrow’s cares are pressing in.Battle raging from within.Hope still lingers.Fear stays too.Night is colored in dark hues. Time is an enemy and a friend.I long for the spell of a dream again.Watching the walls.Waiting for the light. To break the chaos spinning in my mind.

There is nothing so comforting as the quiet glow of the lamplight, On a night stand while the world outside is asleep, It is a warm presence; not too bright and not too dim, But the exact disposition of light to calm hurried thoughts at the end of the day; A beacon guiding souls to distant lands hidden between the lines of a bedtime story, During the day’s earliest and latest hours it is a reminder that you are never truly alone.

Sit beneath a purple bower Breath in deep the dreaming power Of wind and sky and tree and flower Till ebbs away the magic hour And the time has come to wander Through life’s pathways and to ponder Happenings close and far off yonder Till exercised the heart grows fonder Of tasting, touching, seeing, listening A world of wonder, and resisting That complacent bone when twitching Keep the moment that’s existing Fresh and new, full of flavor Colors vibrant meant to savor Go with gusto, do not waver Life is richer when you’re braver As the orange sun is setting Time has come again for resting Contemplate your varied blessings The circle’s made yet never ending.

What is the most valuable part of a person? A cunning mind? A heart of gold? Broad shoulders to carry the load? Maybe its better to be quick on your feet. To possess a strong stomach if you dislike what you eat. Each tiny atom it seems plays a role, In keeping together the whole of the soul. And while I appreciate each member’s place. Lately, one feature means more. And in case, You’re wondering what I’m taking so long to say, A tightness in my throat tends to keep words at bay. But there’s a reason my hand began these lines. My heart wants to thank you for taking the time… TO LISTEN It means more than you’d guess. When your mind is noisy and thoughts are a mess. It’s hard to see through eyes that shine, With tears and fears thwarting the climb. When your feet get tired; knees wobble and shake. Any movement you risk might be a mistake. That is the time arms reach upward for help. But Life’s lessons must often be learned for yourself. Your voice cries out. No one seems to hear. That’s when you need a listening ear. A listening ear, near…