Writing

Writing

What is it to anyone what you do or do not,

When life has you trapped in a diabolical plot.

What is it to those who watching and waiting,

To see which choice is made, or which road I’m taking.

It’s been a lifetime as far as they know,

Spinning tales, living life, creative seeds to sow.

Walking through gardens engendering some tale,

Was done more so for the experience, not only the sale.

Ribbons of black and white all in a row,

Are played by some mystical fingers or so I’m told.

Some rider on a trail who awakens from a dream,

Listens to an old couple explaining the screams.

Languishing in a domestic prison Celeste often chants,

Some mystical words hoping to free her or give her a chance.

Meeting her stranger at the corner of Grant and Lee,

Only heightens her curiosity, as she surrenders to his pleas.

Jackson held between two worlds without release,

Seeks to find himself, some truth, and some peace.

But, the inner room holds him fast within a vacuum alas,

But as he discovers therein, the life he sees is an impasse.

Felicity from the Shanties is looking to find,

Some thread that binds her to some others of her kind.

Shanty Town and its squalor are all that she’s known.

From an early penniless upbringing until the day, she’s grown.

Heather and ole man Sam have often displayed,

The courage to keep the business running day to day.

A La Vista, a small northern Texas community town,

Held mysteries for the uncovering without making a sound.

There are many more secrets and characters tucked away,

In my head upon my bed, often thought of rather than said.

But in due time as the planets align,

I’ll bring them all to life giving them their time.