After years of being a closet writer, my poems started to tell me they wanted to get out more . I have a roving rambling heart myself so I completely understand . Happy travels .

Wednesday, December 31, 1997


The year is done as
I almost was, the last
The comfort searching
I bathe in makes it
Not so bad to spend
The holiday alone
Not so bad

Riches don't mean a thing.
And people aren't so far away

Let's go get what we need
Let's get the pressure off
There is no hurry without anxiety
So take our time
And we shall live better

Because this year I dare to HOPE

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