A Basket of Flowers

Time-worn hands

Buzzing brain

From far away lands

Forming flowers

Hardly sane

Painting pictures

Limited by no bane

Drawing doodles

Held back by no strictures

Creating classics

A home-bound fixture

Forming flowers


Hanging high on my living room wall

A basket of flowers, picked in fall


Where I’m From

I am from nowhere,

But I am from everywhere,

I am from the bustling streets in the land of the free,

The crowded towns in mountains where vampires be,

I am from where the buffalo once roamed,

The rolling green hills of the Old World uncombed.


I am from nowhere,

I am from everywhere,

I am from they who toiled in southern fields,

From those who across the vast ocean sailed.

I am from a people doomed to roam,

A people who have no temporal home.


I am miles from my safe haven,

I am like he who was visited by the raven,

I am in the place where I appertain,

Although I wish not to remain.

I am led by Moses through the wilderness,

But I am home in Canaan nonetheless.


I am on the road less travelled,

Hoping for the path to become unravelled.

I am walking through the narrow gate,

On a path that is being made straight.

I am sure of my destination,

And this is my greatest consolation.