Behind the Grindstone

The days were numbered
And they have passed
It’s one dash one
Again at last

Us kids we would all gather
‘Round the old man Jose
And we would all listen
To the stories he would say

At times we are fortunate enough to have someone placed in our lives that make a deep and lasting impact. So it is with the woman called She Who Hears The Spirit Speak.

At times we are fortunate enough to have someone placed in our lives that make a deep and lasting impact. So it is with the woman called She Who Hears The Spirit Speak.

At times we are fortunate enough to have someone placed in our lives that make a deep and lasting impact. So it is with the woman called She Who Hears The Spirit Speak.

She walks into the silence
Of the darkness of pre-dawn
As the stars sprinkle across the rooftop
Of the earth she now walks on

From our birth until our days are done
Our steps are numbered one by one

Have you ever ate from the tree of life
Or drank from the stream below
Have you ever been under the water
And felt it’s steady flow

A sequel to “Where Walkest Thou.”

There’s something about reading the early poets writing in King James English that inspires a man.

Ralph called me up on the phone
Just the other night
From the tone of his voice
Things must be getting’ tight

The mornin’ starts to lighten
As dawn just starts to break
And I’m sippin’ on black coffee
Tryin’ to stay awake

I’ve had it before, now it seems I have it again. The words I need to write, just ain’t where they’ve always been.

Harry was of the likable sort which got him hired on the Four Bar Seven although he knew little about cowboyin’ although it had always been his dream. He would have made a top hand except for one flaw.

It sure was a pretty mornin’ this mornin’ here on the prairie. We have been blessed with abundant rainfall this summer and it rained again last night.

Walls of stone, stand all alone
Amidst a sea of grass
The ceaseless wind, their only friend
As time and seasons pass