Golden dreams and crystal bubbles
are always such a part of me,
and yet, I find I'm often the first
to see the world's cruel reality.
My dreams they keep me hanging on;
my crystal world survives.
The truth is sometimes hard to believe,
when it shows through in others' lives.
And the greatest disappointment
is the truth sometimes of my own,
as I stand back and look upon it
to see how I've changed and grown
The changes have been awesome;
the growing has been slow,
and I'm amazed at what I've gone through
to learn the things I know.
But the gold is always purest gold,
the crystal remains intact.
I still have trouble understanding
the things I find as fact.

Oconoluftee Farm tree

I cannot tell you the things of my heart,
nor can I reveal all thoughts.
Many of my dreams are still unknown to me,
as are the memories that yesterday brought.
For this is the year of the locust,
and this summer is unlike the rest.
With clear, fragile wings I ascend past the trees
and assume the response I know best....
I am flying.

I cannot hope for tomorrow's return,
nor can I prepare for its stay.
Deep are the clouds that divide my world's sky
into chasms of darkness and day.
For this is the year of the locust,
and this season is not near its end.
Slowly I awaken from my unknowing sleep
and accompany my sky-destined friend.
I am flying.

I only wish I could explain this to you,
why it somehow expresses my pain.
Is this how you feel when you close out the world
in your feeble attempt to attain?
Attain all the answers to the questions unasked?
Know all the knowledge un-thought?
See all the dreams dreamt in nights without sleep?
Remember the battles unfought?
This is the year of the locust,
and its meaning I can't understand.
Like you in your search for unfeeling,
it happens without any demand.

Newfound Gap View of North Carolina, oil 2005

It is time that reigns over this world of ours;
no man escapes its rule.
Time cannot be conquered, it will not stand still,
but it is an asset, a tool.
For only through time are dreams made realities,
only in time do we grow.
Only through time can we achieve success
and utilize the things that we know.

Only in time has this knowledge come to be--
through hours spent in study and thought,
days filled with concern, confusion, and conflict,
precious seconds that could not be bought,
the moments of enlightenment and those of realization,
learning through trials and mistakes.
They prove that time is priceless but that each accomplishment is worth
the energy and time that it takes.

Somewhere in time, each man must step aside
and view his life as it stands.
He must realize ihs achievements, lay claim to his rewards
and receive the satisfaction he demands.
At this time he must take pride in the things he has accomplished,
stand out and look at the mountains he has climbed.

I love you and I'm proud of you in so many ways,
for I know you've reached that moment,
and now is that time.

Porter's Creek

Love.
Love is a brand new thing to me --
something I've had for a long, long time.
Love is something I've plenty of
but do not keep as mine.
Love is such a happy thing;
it sometimes makes me cry.
Love gives me so much to live for --
yes, for love I'd die.
Love is a stepping stone to all of life's joys,
but it must not be walked upon.
Love often goes unrecognized
until the love is gone.
Love cannot be measured,
and yet, each day it grows.
Love is something that can't be explained,
yet something that every person knows.
Love is something I cannot touch,
and yet, to love I cling.
Love is such a paradox --
it's such a simple thing.

Spruce Flats Butterflies

Butterfly, wild and free
you know, you kinda look like me.

Frail and fluttering in autumn's warm embrace,
never truly occupying space,
never still long enough.
Lost in flight to a world unknown,
a gentle world of your own,
you seem to see things differently.
Life tries to hold you in its hand,
but you're on your way to another land
somewhere in your mind.

Man reaches out to touch your glow,
but the warmth comes from within, you know,
and it's hidden deep inside.
He crushes now your frail nervous wings,
frail, nervous, fluttering things,
and then the man finds
a very soft, warm simple being,
whose wings kept most the world from seeing,
warm and simple thing.

And then he sees what he has done,
the wings look dull now in the sun,
frail and fragile colors.
And the warm and simple is all he sees,
the wings are blown about in the breeze...
Butterflies don't last very long.

I see you, butterfly, in autumn's warm wind,
torn apart, never to mend,
frail and fluttering with too much ease,
wings blown away by autumn's warm breeze.
Just the warm and simple that no one sees,
lost, lying on the earth.

The wind was warm; the wind was strong;
no, butterflies don't really last very long.
Butterfly you look like me.

Tree tops at the Chimneys

Autumn.
Leaves are dying their glorious death.
The air is crisp and cool.
And the sun sets early.
Birds are following the warmer winds,
journeying to places I'll never see.
Summer flowers wilt away.
Caterpillars wrap themselves in winter homes.
And I, too, am becoming isolated.

Trees on Chimney Tops Trail

No matter what trials may come our way,
our love will grow deeper and stronger,
will last through this life, through eternity,
through all tomorrows to come, even longer.
Together in God's sight, we will stand side by side.
Together in spirit, wherever.
I'll love you though time may cease to exist.
I'll love you always and forever.

Walking down the road of life,
crossing bridges,
burning a few behind you.
Turning at crossroads,
making it over mountains
and through valleys.

And you're watching,
looking out for memories,
turning corners
and finding something there to remind you...
memories.

Memories of other places,
other times,
memories of others,
standing on the corners
as you walk down the road of life.

Wake Robin, pastel 2005

You're everything that makes me smile--
things like sunshine, honesty, and spring.
Your very existence makes life worthwhile,
because into my life you bring
all the things that make me whole,
all the joy life has to give,
all the wonder that fills my soul.
From moment to moment I live
just to be by your side, just to hear your voice,
just to be able to touch your hand.
Time is my enemy, I have no choice
but to try to understand
why the seconds stand still when I am without you,
why they rush on when I want them stilled.
I'm not sure what it is, but there's something special about you,
and there's a special place in my heart that you've filled
with a feeling that's deep, a feeling that's strong,
the special feeling that I am writing of,
and only to you does it belong,
this beautiful feeling --
love.

From beginnings.