Coin In The Fountain by Mike Williams 01/23/2016 @ 9:31 A.M.

I was all of twenty three when I made a simple wish. 
For sping had came to visit me after winter's long abyss. 
Gray skies gave way to sun and the snow had disappeared. 
The little crochus raised their heads to smile and happily peer. 

The quartet strung its melody atop of Bad Herrenalb. 
I took the train to Nancy and Metz to ease winter's long looming doubt. 
There a fountain babbled and dripped in the golden sun. 
And I had a pocket full of coin and slowly fished out one. 

I felt alive and never wanted to leave, but knew that soon I must. 
And kissed the coin, the abode of all my hope and wishful trust. 
One day I would soon return and revisit this land of forest, flower, and mountain. 
Then tossed my coin into the clear waters of that glorious fountain. 

Exhausted by Mike Williams 01/24/2016 @ 12:10 A.M.

I'd love to stay and play,
But I have to go to sleep.
My mind is starting to sway,
I'm aching in my feet.

My fingers are tired,
My eyes need a rest.
Though I'm much inspired,
I'm not at my best.

So off to sleepyland,
I bid you fond farewell,
Good night ladies and gentlemen,
I'm exhausted can't you tell.

Old Man Winter by Mike Williams 01/23/2016 @ 12:00 P.M.

The city rarely slumbers, 
And sidewalks seem unending. 
The streetlights glowing, 
As the snow starts descending. 

A sudden slow and calm, 
Amid the usual traffic rush. 
An erie sight to behold, 
And an unsettling hush. 

The emantle cold comes, 
And an etherial blue hue. 
Old man winter comes calling, 
And none know what to do. 

Lotus (Haiku) by Mike Williams 01/23/2016 @ 11:36 P.M.

summer breezes still 
lotus blossom adrift stirs 
riples silently 

Sticky Notes by Mike Williams 07/25/2015 @ 11:03 A M.

Sticky notes on the table, 
And scattered on the floor. 
They are here, there, and everywhere; 
On the mirror and on the door. 

Little yellow scraps of paper, 
Reminders and saved thoughts. 
Ideas to sit and ponder, 
I tend to think a lot. 

My mind wonders off without me, 
I write down encouraging quotes. 
I don't know what I would do, 
Without those little sticky notes. 

Prancing Dancers by Mike Williams 11/05/2015 @ 12:31 A.M.

Now come the dancers prancing, 
Like water how they flow. 
None see the dust of dancing, 
Mangled feet and painful toe. 

How elegant they move around, 
Resplendid and soft and divine. 
Practiced hard for every pound, 
Put through the daily grind. 

The blood, the sweat, the tears; 
Nobody behind the curtain sees. 
Perfect line and form from years, 
Come now dancing on a breeze.

Childhood Magic by Mike Williams 10/4/2015 @ 11:13 A.M.

The years have all escaped me, I thought childhood magic was lost. 
Growing up I used to want, but never accounted for the cost. 

But then I learned that I carried it with me, everywhere I go. 
Magic lives inside a heart, to find again and know. 

When nobody is looking, I jump on the bed. 
While nobody is listening, I sing a tune remembered from my head. 

While outside, my eyes observe nature's wonders still. 
Magic is all around me, and inside my child-like will. 

I get giddy and laugh aloud, my insides tickle too. 
Time may turn you into a grown-up, but magic lives in you.

Tomorrow by Mike Williams 10/22/2015 @ 11:38 P.M.

Tomorrow is a place in the sky, 
Where wishes and dreams go to die. 
  
Tomorrow is the land of misfit toys, 
Wrapped up in ribbons and keys of joys. 
  
Tomorrow is time at it's end, 
Down the hallway and back again. 
  
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I will wait. 
Today I close the book, shut the gate. 
  
Promise of hope, or place of sorrow? 
Impatatiently I'm waiting for tomorrow. 
  

Dreams, Desire, and Disappointment by Mike Williams 09/29/2015 @ 12:20

I wanted to paint, but you said artists all starve to death. 
I wanted to grow flowers, but you said they are fleeting as breath. 

I wanted to open a curiosity shop, but you said it would not last. 
Every dream I ever held onto, you silenced into the past. 

I wanted to move to a foreign land, you said the language I didn't speak. 
I wanted to thrive at home, but you said it wouldn't keep. 

I wanted to break free from you, you said I'd never survive. 
Disappointment held me by a thread, I hardly felt alive. 

You made me into a fragile bird, afraid to try its wings. 
You crushed every hope I had, now I no longer sing. 

You kept me in a cage of your making, to that perch I cling. 
Crippled by your point of view, where pain is crowned as king.

You became the proverbial fly in the ointment.
All that I am left with is dreams, desire, and disappointment.

A Seed of Hope by Mike Williams 10/5/2015 @ 10:26 A.M.

A seed of hope grows in my garden. 
Only time will tell, should it have pardon. 
Rain, or shine; through mirth, and sorrow. 
Hope holds ground, birthed in tomorrow. 

Least it be that I should believe. 
Clutching not flowers, but merely weeds. 
Another day I plant another row. 
Continually until blossoms soon shall grow. 

Seed by seed, awaiting some glorious hour. 
Painting my landscape with color and flower. 
Remembering the lesson of ages ago. 
Daring to dream the dream of Michelangelo. 

Mind, Heart, and Soul by Mike Williams 01/23/2016 @ 1:16 P.M.

There once was a argument between the mind, heart, and soul. 
A dare and wager stated a long, long time ago. 
It began with the mind, who was hauty and proud. 
And ended with the soul, who was not quite as loud. 

The mind began to say; "I matter the most!" 
Then the heart butted in; "But I'm love's host!" 
The two disagreed for hours on end. 
That is when the soul finally started in. 

"My friends you are both on a fool's task!" 
"All of us matter, need any should ask." 
"Thinking is important, and so is love!" 
"But who connects you both to heaven above?" 

The three grew suddenly quiet and looked at each other. 
The words of the soul made the other two shutter. 
The mind was lost for words, and the heart stopped complete. 
And all three agreed to never ever again compete. 

Masquerade by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 10:20 P.M.

I feel like such a clown, 
In the world strangest parade. 
I wear my heart upon my sleeve, 
And my own face is displayed. 

You see me as you wish, 
From your own point of view. 
You are looking right through me, 
But what you see is untrue. 

I'm open wide in front of you, 
Bare before your very eyes. 
I'm striped down to the bone, 
With no ostensible disguise. 

As I remain patiently honest, 
A little lost and dismayed. 
Still unseen in the crowd, 
Unmasked in a masquerade. 

Black and White by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 8:21 P.M.

I love old black and white movies, 
Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. 
When life seemed soft and innocent, 
As they danced lightly upon air. 

A still frame of another time, 
Like a window into another place. 
Then the world went Technicolor, 
And it all quickly changed in pace. 

How I wish life was so simple, 
It no longer feels quite right. 
I want to go back to yesterday, 
Like those movies of black and white. 

Ninety Five Years by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 6:30 P.M

She has outlived countless presidents, 
Watched man land on the moon. 
She remembers the invent of the computer, 
And recalls the internet boom. 
  
She survived marriage during World War Two, 
And had a son in Vietnam. 
She went through the Jewish Holocaust, 
And dropping the atom bomb. 
  
She dealt with the Oklahoma dust bowl, 
And traveled by covered wagon. 
She has watched life make many changes, 
And survived things I can't imagine. 
  
The world may see a fragile little old lady, 
She's far stronger than she appears. 
I call her my sweet dear grandmother, 
Who has lived for ninety five years. 

The Greatest Show by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 3:01 P.M.

The train smoked, fumed, and whistled
down the old long winding track. 
Animals, clowns, and carnys 
in the caboose at the back. 

The strongman chased the small geek 
round with a pink parasol. 
The fat lady stuffed her cheeks
with cake as she watched it all. 

The elephants grew restless 
pinned snug in their tight cages. 
The fortune teller shuffled
her deck of card for ages. 

With a shuttering, screetching,
came a hissing, rumbling sound. 
The train came to a halt and
The Greatest Show came to town. 

Quills, and Parchment, and Books Galore by Mike Williams 9/28/2015 @ 12.00 P.M.

There is something magic about a quill and ink. 
Grandioquent words scrawled on paper and time to think. 
Hours of cognative reason plotting the remains of the day. 
Composing word after word with the right message to say.

A moral premise and perhaps a fairytale. 
Prose and poetry written quite lovely as well. 
Bound up in leather and hardbacked in covers picturesque. 
Filled with pages of writing to savor and stories at best. 

There is nothing in the world that I like much more. 
Than quills, and parchment, and books galore. 

Hunting For Snipes by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 12:01 P.M.

We waste countless moments agonizing, 
Looking for our perfect love types. 
How we snag and snare our hearts, 
While chasing invisible snipes. 

Thinking that love will fix all wrongs, 
And missing the forrest for the tree. 
It's not something to search for at all, 
But loving we should simply be. 

We desire to fill our empty hearts, 
And the lives we alone despise. 
Yet love exists from deep within, 
And shown by the most wise. 

Those that know just what to do, 
Flush expectation out their pipes. 
And love is theirs to be had, 
Without going hunting for snipes. 

Have A Heart by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 10:03 A.M

When the heart has but one longing plea, 
Return, return your love to me. 
It weaves a web over mystery, 
And sees beyond shadows of secrecy. 

How the heart dances in rhythm and light,
It gives your dreams wings of flight. 
It soars over life's little petty things, 
While feeling its many pricks and stings. 

Why the heart is tucked away from showing, 
Perhaps its all the better for knowing. 
For we observe outwardly with our eyes, 
But should look closer where the heart lies. 

What better treasure behind lock and door, 
We search for something worth looking for. 
For nothing easily gained rearely lasts, 
And the heart is fragile as crystal-like glass. 

Where is the abode of our greater humanity? 
Some say the mind though I disagree. 
Thinking is certainly a noble endeavor, 
But feeling is hardly in anyway less clever.

Who knows life's secrets better than most? 
Least anyone should brag or boast. 
Marvelous it is to be giftedly smart, 
But the greatest gift is to have a heart. 

If The Stars Were Mine by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 8:31 A.M.

If the stars were mine, 
I would keep them exactly where they are.
I would make a sign, 
Saying look up very high, wide, and far. 

I would remind everyone, 
Strange is wonderful as the heavens mark. 
The stars only shine, 
When the world is the most dark. 

I would make a tall ladder, 
To listen to the stars sing to me. 
Sit quietly still for hours, 
And just simply watch them all be. 

I would find out their secrets, 
Everything would be perfectly fine. 
And share with the world, 
If ever the stars were mine. 

The Bewitching Hour by Mike Williams 01/21/2016 @ 12: 03 P.M

The bewitching hour when thoughts run too deep, 
The soul stirs and poets can not sleep. 
Midnight madness entwines its way in silvery thought, 
Plucks up the courage, by day speaks not. 

When words weave and coil like tendrils of vine, 
Ensnares the senses line by line. 
The spinners of shadows can hardly keep pace, 
As the hand and quill quickly race. 

Floods of delicious vision, and tongue salivates, 
Tomorrow the image never awaits. 
All at once until the deed and word finds its power, 
Hark! Comes the Bewitching hour. 

The Open Mind by Mike Williams 09/01/2015 @ 3:56 P.M

A flick of the switch and off goes the light, 
An intrepid journey and fancy of flight, 
The deepest seas I swim and highest mountains climb, 
Every night I sleep a new adventure to find. 

Castles in the clouds amid a blanket of stars, 
With shelves lined full of dreams in apothecary jars, 
Slaying dragons and monsters with ease of skill, 
Visiting distant and strange foreign lands at will. 

A hero's return home then safe in my bed, 
A single night's fancy swirls inside my head, 
Never knowing the wounders that I might find, 
Worth more to me than gold the open mind. 

Paradisum by Mike Williams 01/20/2016 @ 9:39 P.M.

How high the moon vivid full and bright, 
A tang of salt upon the breaze tonight. 
The liners in a row docked in the bay, 
A luau tourches distant in rumble and sway. 

The islands jeweled under sparkles of stars, 
Kona coffee wafts in the air from nearby bars. 
Peaceful in the still as I walk the empty beech, 
At a loss for words and no need for speech. 

The rush and tangle of the rustling leaves,
Swaying rhythmically tidal in the palm trees. 
Cobalt blue sky and the cooled evening hour, 
Pale soft the scent of the jasmine flower. 

Merchant of Dreams by Mike Williams 01/20/2016 @ 8:11 P.M.

Just down the street there is a curiosity shop, 
With an old man and a large grandfather clock. 
His long beard white as Queen Ann's lace,
And a map of time sprawled across his face. 

Behind a mammoth glass desk in his usual spot, 
Lined with shelves of Apothecary jars and whatnot. 
With yellowed parchment piles and plumes galore. 
And ivory figurines I've not seen the likes of before. 

He fumbles a while with his trembling leathered hands. 
And pulls out oddities kindly upon command. 
With a soft voice welcomes you in each time the bell rings. 
That sweet little shop and its merchant of dreams. 

Mary Jane's Lullaby by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 1:15 P.M.

 A metalic taste coursed through her veins,  
As she layed listless and moaning there.  
I watched her breaths rise and fall the same,  
Attentive to her medical care.  

I could not sleep despite the want of rest, 
And tried I kept myself wide awake.  
Charged to change her pumps of dark pooled blood,  
As she suffered, shivered, slept, and quaked.  

Cancer had taken one of her breasts,  
She survived a time to tell its tale.  
I endured to watch her agony,  
But in truth I did not fare as well.  

I see her smile, her warmth, and her face,  
Never could I possibly forget.  
Aunt Mary's beautiful bravery,  
How she lived without any regret.   

For strong was she as she had so lived, 
Courageously she did later die.   
Through years of silence the disease tolled,  
When life left her like a lullaby.  

Sentemental Journey by Mike Williams 01/20/2016 @ 6:51 P.M.

Your voice keeps repeating inside my mind,
Words I've heard for the longest time. 

Spoken too often for many a reason. 
Time and time again, in and out of season. 

I've walked the road of memory, up and down. 
Through its twists and turns, and turned back around. 

And there were your words haunting once more. 
A sentemental journey like none other before. 

Never Ever Real by Mike Williams 01/20/2017 @ 6:01 P.M.

I feel hollow and empty as an old wash pot. 
Rusted, dusty, worn, and forgot. 
Hung up long, long ago in the old shed. 
With cobwebs and paper nests in my head. 

I feel lost as a child in a grocery store. 
Crying from fear and fright by the door. 
Separated from mother for the first time. 
Searching, and searching, but can not find. 

I feel dark as a shadow upon the wall. 
Lonely and strange with no voice at all. 
Trapped, and dependant, and stretched long. 
Aimless and wondering where I belong. 

But of all the things that I most feel, 
Your love for me was never ever real. 

When We Used To Play by Mike Williams 01/20 2016 @ 12:20 P.M.

I remember days of endless splendor, 
Of sunlight and daffodils. 
Cardboard castles and wooden swords, 
And broomstick horses and cartwheels. 

The days of sunshine seemed to last forever, 
And we were so very small. 
The world was full of endless magic, 
And there was adventure in it all. 

As we grew tall and seasons changed, 
We put our imaginations and toys away. 
Then lost our sense of beutiful wonder, 
Back when we used to play. 

Lasting Memory by Mike Williams 01/20/2016 @ 8:52 A.M.

I want to apricate in the warmth of the sun, 
Sense its shine upon my face. 
I want to cuddle in your loving arms, 
And feel your soft embrace. 

I want to idle lazily away the hours, 
And watch time slowly pass. 
I want to hear your voice again, 
But I can no longer, alas. 

The fields of wheat wither, 
The flowers have spent their bloom. 
I remain in gloomy darkness, 
In the silence of the room. 

The days of sunshine are gone, 
And the warmth has grown cold. 
You have crossed the other side, 
And alone I must grow old. 

Time conspires against me, 
And I linger somewhere in the past. 
I only have you now in memory, 
And that's all I have to last. 

Childhood Memories by Mike Williams 07/11/2014 @ 10:52 P.M.

Imagine with me and linger a while; 
Said the old man to the little child. 
Let me recount the folly of my youth, 
And dream of castles and noblemen upon hoof. 

Let us picture shapes from clouds in the sky, 
And recount our favorite flavors of pie. 
Lay among the tall grass and catch ladybugs, 
And drink lemonade from jars shaped like mugs. 

While away the hours a little until the sun sets, 
And catch fireflies with butterfly nets. 
Then Off! Off! and away you will go, 
Tucked snug in your bed with a kiss on your nose. 

For now it's your time to learn, grow, and play. 
I won't always be around, the boy heard him say. 
Let us live in the moment so long as we can, 
Knowing that I love you; said the old man. 

Yippie Skippie Cartwheel Big Band Parade by Mike Williams 10/6/2015 @ 12:44.

I just can not go to bed. 
These ramblings in my head. 

My mind will not calm down. 
I want to paint the town. 
  
Yippie skippie cartwheel big band parade.
Bouncing round, up and down as my head is laid. 

I tried to read and ate too much, nothing will do. 
I just can not fall asleep, I'm up again at two.  

Invisible by Mike Williams, Saturday May 9th 2015 at 11:56 p.m.

As a child I played a game,
Covering my face so nobody could see. 
Pretending I was hidden from the world,
But my Mother could always find me. 

When I was fearful of the dark,
Afraid to sleep in my own bed. 
She laid beside me until I slept,
Then peaceful dreams danced inside my head. 

She held my hand and guided me,
And gave her tender love and care. 
My Mother was my very first teacher,
And my protector who was always there. 

Now I've grown up into a man,
And when life makes me feel miserable. 
I remember lessons of love from Mother,
Who saw me when I was invisible.  

Quicksilver by Mike Williams 11/26/2015 @ 6:46 A.M.

Oh! My darling damselfly, 
On silvery wings of love am I. 

Day to day I flit and flutter, 
The trappings of my heart mutter. 

Life seems a golden shower of glitter, 
A thousand dalliances dance and fritter. 

In those fleeting moments I soar, 
Upon tender feelings higher o'er. 

Then dashed the rocks covered in dew, 
Clinging to mere visions of you. 

A heart swells and retracts astir, 
Hopeless then hopeful to bluster. 

Yet still I rise and swiftly I fall, 
Is not love quicksilver after all? 

Tintinnabulation by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 9:15 P.M.

Morning sun dresses the window softly, 
And the bells of Sankt Wendel ring. 
Snow dusts the park ever so lightly, 
I still beneath the covers lazily cling. 

My eyes full of sleep I start to wink, 
Thrice I hear the church bells toll. 
Carried by the wind beyond the brink, 
Heir Müller calls from down below. 

I stumble toward the parlor balconey  
Light up a cigarette without hesitation. 
Order roast wurst mit senf and coffee. 
Inside my ears echoes of tintinnabulation.

End of Spring (Haiku) by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 3:27 P.M.

spring is near an end 
the soft breezes whisper slow 
cherry blossoms fall 

The Herold's Call by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 7:34 P.M.

Black bird flies over the silvan mist, 
Through mystery and hearkened its wrawl. 
Follow me, follow me least you resist, 
I've come alas, come alas one and all. 

Across the veil where hidden things twist, 
Beyond the unseen where no man does thral. 
Far from the other realm with message in fist, 
Where silently chains and shadows fall. 

Over the cathedral of trees ancient amidst, 
I've come to guide your way through the mall. 
And bring knowledge of olden things wist,
Come with me echoed the herold's call. 

The Power of "if" by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 2:32 P.M.

If the world dashes your buttons,  
And steals your dreams.  
Sew a garmet of gossamer thread.  

If life takes away your sunshine,  
And brings you rain.  
Paint irridecent skies instead.  

If people tarnish your hope,  
And subdue your wonder.  
Imagine a new road ahead.  

If doubt clouds your mind,  
And kills your desire.  
Remember it's in your head.  

"If" is always infinite,  
And infinite will always be.  
The power of possibility is,  
It is simply up to me.  

The Winter of My Discontent by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 4:37 P.M.

As the sun grows weak and mild,  
The days shorten and hours spent.  
The trees are baren of their leaves,  
A chill upon the air came and went.  

The skies darken and cloud over,  
And shadows now hardly loom.  
I huddle close to the fire in my chair,  
And keep solemnly to a single room.  

My bones ache under a blanket,  
And visible the warmth of breath.  
Cold and shivering my fingers curl,  
As if I'm close to catch my death.  

No company to entertain or visitor,  
I alone in the silence keep still.  
The frozen iron of snow and ice,  
Come to test my strength and will.  

I feel every ounce of bitter cold,  
Through my flesh cracked and wrent.  
Dire and dreary the season knows,  
The winter of my discontent.  

Fairer Days by Mike Williams 10/11/2015 @ 2:02 P.M.

The mirror no longer reflects me fair, 
Gone are the days of youth. 
The mantle of tendrils ashen and greyed, 
Dimmed eyes and slacked skin portray their forsooth. 

Will you love me all the more then, 
When time has taken its toll? 
Still looking with your heart at mine, 
Astir with feeling within your soul? 

Youth is fleeting and time is harsh, 
But deepening, softening our internal self displays. 
The years seem to pass faster now, 
Age dispells all beutiful notions of fairer days. 

My heart, mind, and soul eclipse the carnal; 
Here is the abode of greater beauty and wealth. 
The wishing of any part of fairer days, 
Would be vanity and foolishness itself. 

Silent Nevermore by Mike Williams 01/15/2016 @ 1:57 P.M.

Before the last silvery thought rises, 
Like a golden bird caged. 
To warble a secret song apearched, 
Beyond time, entranced, and aged. 

Spectral feelings a pheonix rebirthed, 
From the dust and ash. 
Brim with fire and furry exsquisite, 
And spark in flamming flash. 

The mind once shut is now reopened, 
No longer fearing life's pains. 
A heart too often shattered and broken, 
Knows nothing ventured never gains. 

This I take to hold and keep, 
Wide-eyed awake as I dream. 
'Tis better to live and die rediculous, 
Than keep quiet and go unseen. 

Now I think in ways mysterious, 
Thoughts I never thought before. 
Sing aloud and proud serine and sweet, 
And remain silent nevermore. 

Love Me by Mike Williams 01/14/2016 @ 2:01 P.M.

Love is not blind for it's kinder than kind, 
It sees beyond what the world can not. 
It bites its lip and holds its tongue, 
Full of hope it acts to advance the plot. 

Love is fair and fairer is no other as such, 
It knows the deepest depths of true sacrifice. 
It places itself last to lift you high up, 
Bears the weight and toil and rolls the dice. 

Love is a gift and it asks not for return, 
It only wishes for the best and sets free. 
It longs to be noticed somewhere in the quiet, 
And prays that you might learn to love me. 

Journey by Book by Mike Williams 01/19/2016 @ 9:30 A.M.

I've sailed to Ithaca to the isles of the Peloponnese, 
And endured the tasks of Odysseus in an epic journey. 

I've searched with Jason and the Argonauts throughout Greece, 
In their quest for the legendary magical Golden Fleece. 

I've opened the text by candle light as the sunlight wore, 
And read ancient poetry of the western world o'er. 

As if I was there in my mind with vivid images to store, 
I opened a book and found all of these wonders and more. 

Childhood by Heart by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 11:00 P.M.

Swing to the sky and kiss the sun. 
Higher than high O' little one. 
Climb the rope and grab the ring. 
And think of lullibys to sweetly sing. 

Remember these moments which go too fast. 
You'll grow you know and it can't last. 
Play while you can O' cherub child. 
And allow your imagination to run wild. 

Gather your friends and love to laugh. 
This time next year you'll be taller by half. 
The summer will wane and school will start. 
And childhood will live only in your heart. 

Trail of Pain by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 10:22 P.M

Dark as a cloud to fill up the room, 
Ready to thunder, strike, and rain. 
Heavy brow and squinty eyes beady black, 
The devil's own known by name. 

Wicked sharp tongue knowing no kind word, 
Cursed, sneaky, devious and bane. 
Lumbering rotund figure cloaked in deception, 
Vague expression of face and deeply vain. 

He weaves and conjures with idle words, 
Limping afoot on a long crooked cane. 
Sucks out the life of innocent souls, 
A narcissist leaving a trail of pain. 

The Queen of Mean by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 2:00 P.M.

Dressed in finery and a crown of gold,  
Upon a lofty perch and throne of old.  
A queen observed and renounced a beggar maid's cry.  
And did not bother to lift her eye.  

Raggle-taggle cloth the young girl wore,  
Hungry for bread she begged door to door.  
What she wouldn't give for a single jeweled stone.  
Working the day long with nothing her own.  

The queen knew not hunger and never knew thirst.  
She knew not cold, nor poverty's curse.  
Before her stood with a plea and outstretched hand.  
A single wretched poor girl from her own land.  

"No husband have I and nothing to eat.  
I am reduced to beg for bread on the street."  
The maid went without notice and left the sceen.  
To run far away from the court of the queen of mean.  

Measure for Measure by Mike Williams 01/17/2016 @ 3:46 P.M.

I do not want false and feigned emotions. 
Crockodile tears, and words of silken lotion.  
Not secrets, and games of slap-and-tickle.  
Who cares for frivolity, both feckless and fickle?  

I do not want lofty love too high to aspire, 
For simple pleasures hold my deepest desire.  
Truth, honor, integrity and probity love is to me.  
I don't care if there is plenty of fish in the sea.  

I long for one great love to call my own.  
A heart with room built for one alone.  
For I love completely and offer up its treasure.  
I only want a love equal, measure for measure.  

Between The Lines by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 6:56 P.M.

Between the lines and whispers of breath,
There is a volume of words we never say. 
Where hope lingers a moment before its death, 
And dreams are hushed and drift quietly away. 

Between the lines of palpable raw emotion, 
Where the words are scribed upon the page. 
Spare in promise and sweet framed devotion, 
And subtle hints vim slightly above inward rage. 

There in the long hush and the tempered stills, 
A truth often unspoken resides in our minds. 
The vexations and wonders that silently fills, 
Our hearts remain somewhere between the lines. 

The Silver Herring In The Pool Of The Moon by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 3:43 P.M.

The silver herring in the pool of the moon, 
Wondered its way to the crystal sea. 
To danced in the starlight aflicker and swoon, 
And ebb and flow with the tide easily. 

It darted delightful amid waves and foam, 
And swirled around as happy as can be. 
But knowing that there is no place like home, 
The little fish in mirrored waters journeyed. 

Back to where the life was simple and free, 
where the air is filled with the song of the loon. 
Far and away from the crystal sea, 
The silver herring in the pool of the moon.

Turned Off Light by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 2:34 P.M.

Under the bed in the dark of night,  
Monsters lurk for ankles to bite.  
Behind the cracked closet door,  
Eyes peer outward aglow o'er.  

Inside the walls scratches sound,  
Claws razzor sharp run up and down.  
Upon the ceiling along the groove,  
Shadows creep and slowly move.  

Down the hall echoes softly moan,  
Ghosts come out and nightly roam.  
Under the floor creaks of fright,  
Never sleep with a turned off light. 

Beneath The Crimson Petal by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 12:38 P.M.

When the rose has withered and pricks of pride. 
Where men of lackluster lived and died. 
Bare the field of mirth and pardon. 
And once stood a braggart's garden. 

As the crimson petal fell and revealed the thorn. 
The love from neighbors hearts was torn. 
Empty and petty grew weeds in its place. 
And justice recognized no longer its face. 

Where hope once stood and gave way its light. 
There men grew blind of wrong and right. 
Darkness did come and ignorance did settle. 
And none knew what lies beneath the crimson petal. 

You and I by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 10:36 A.M.

Let us sit and talk of things yet to be,  
And dream of things we'd like to see.  
A world of our own making, just you and I.
Soft upon grasses as we lie.  

Let us hold hands and whisper of love,  
And stare into the pillowed clouds above. 
A life from our imaginiation, just you and I.  
Slow as the changing azure sky.  

Let us take in the moments of dappled light,  
And into susurrant breezes let love take flight.  
A hope of the heart, just you and I.  
Long in the passing by and by.  

Around The Sun by Mike Williams 01/17/2016 @ 5:32 P.M.

Come with me and journey afar,   
Through time, distance, alight by star.   
Another trip around the golden sun,   
Returning back to where we had begun.   

Dreaming by firelight in your chair, 
With silver platted and silk spun hair.   
A little older and wiser than before,   
And memories to harbor evermore.   

As time itself is fleeting away,   
I'll hold your withered hand and say.   
Remember when we both were young,   
And traveled once around the sun.   

Underneath The Willow Tree by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 1:08 A.M.

Underneath the willow tree, 
Someone's waiting just for me. 
There where shadows creep, 
I hear them teary weep, 
Underneath the willow tree. 

Underneath the willow tree, 
Pardon there is kept for me. 
That soggy patch of earth, 
The birds sing of mirth. 
Underneath the willow tree. 

Underneath the willow tree, 
My baby is waiting just for me. 
And long awaiting there, 
Burried in my despair. 
Underneath the willow tree. 

Face to Face by Mike Williams 01/18/2016 @ 12:23 A.M.

Let me hold your hand and kiss your face, 
And bask inside your soft embrace. 
Let me whisper low into your ear, 
And show you how much I love you dear. 

Let me burden the world just for you, 
And bare my heart out and secrets too. 
Let me lay beside you and sweetly sleep, 
And recount memories instead of sheep. 

Let me bring you tokens of my love, 
And watch the heavens wheel above. 
Let me walk behind you and footsteps trace, 
And arise every morning and see your face. 

The Hero's Journey by Mike Williams 01/17/2016 @ 7:48 P.M.

My heart pulsates rapidly beneath my chest. 
The lure quickens of an impending quest. 
Clouded horizions in the distance loom. 
Foreshadowing time's end and fearful gloom. 

My mind races and shows no sign of rest.
The trembling of fingers subside and crest. 
Twilight gives way to the light of the moon. 
Echoing danger, despair, and possible doom. 

My determination rises and I at my best. 
The palpable thumping under bone and breast. 
Night passes as white lillies peak and bloom. 
Telling me that I will be on my way home soon. 

Wasted, Wanton, and Weary by Mike Williams 01/14/2016 @ 6:32 P.M.

My world is lonliness full of heart-felt pain. 
I droll, drum, and drag behind a smile. 
Inside I'm unraveled, unhinged, awaiting to live a little while. 
How I miss love's bliss and tender the kiss came. 

I remember the touch, the clasping of hands, and caresses clearly. 
I am haunted by the soft shine of eyes and tender wetted lips. 
And wonder what's in store for me as my heart and breath skips? 
Without love tomorrow seems wasted, wanton, and I am weary. 

Behind Your Eyes by Mike Williams 01/17/2016 @ 11:48 A.M.

Behind your eyes bathed and dappled in silent light; 
Burning with desire and hope, flecked, gold bright. 
I see universes and many stars afar, 
And marvel the secrets of who you are.

When your world is full of sadness, sorrow, despair; 
Hidden and repressed deep somewhere in there. 
I sense your pain and glimpse your marvelous wonder, 
Your endless skies, storms, and distant thunder. 

There's nothing that you can diguise or hide from me; 
As I stare long into your private sea. 
You can not mask and cover with little white lies, 
I know who you are, love, behind your eyes.

Heart Entombed by Mike Williams 01/17/2016 @ 9:50 A.M.

Twist not the blade so deep into my back.
The tears I cry are from your deception. 
The trust that I gave you treated with such lack. 
The secrets I gave for your protection. 


Your smile so wickedly ambivalant. 
A silvery sword with treacherous ease. 
Your presence is festering malignant. 
In my heart you dwell like a dreaded disease. 


My heart turning black in anticipation. 
Spewing forth hatred with every flutter. 
Revenge plots form with silent elation. 
To fill my mind in a useless clutter. 


Take your traitors heart away with your cries. 
For inside my heart your tombstone now lies. 

The Heart of Love by Mike Williams 01/17/2016 @ 9:52 A.M.

Where there is love, there is a quiet peace.  
A tranquil place within where turmoils cease.  
Love changes a moments darkness into light.  
And makes the heart take wingless flight.    

Love is unselfish understanding, and kind.
For it sees with its heart and not the mind.
Love is simple to do and difficult to explain.  
For it's deep devotion, sacrifice, and pain.    

Love is reward enough unto those that do.  
And the world will say "what a fool of you."  
Love is a gift freely given without expectation.  
And love is the greatest lesson of revelation. 

Unclaimed Letters From The Other Side by Mike Williams 01/17/2016 @ 8:56 A.M

The days drag on fleeting fast, 
Like drips that fall from the kitchen sink. 
A collection of cards and letters from the past, 
I lay listless in bed and tormentedly think. 

The shades drawn closed and hide the blue sky, 
I can't bear to see the morning light. 
Asking myself the same old question why? 
I've lost my strength and my inward fight. 

I droll and drone daily toward my mailbox,
Return to sender the post continues to chide. 
My heart aflutter and my mind flummoxed, 
Unclaimed letters from the other side.

Consecrated Heart by Mike Williams 01/16/2016 @ 10:58 P.M.

What secrets lie within the jewel case that beats? 
Rapping, tapping, pulsation of flesh, 
With trembling rythems that ever repeats, 
And hope in its well remaining fresh. 

Wherefore I return again and sustained, 
Silent, listening for grains to gleen, 
The stores of my love constantly contained, 
Joyful, pleasant, and tempered serine. 

Traped like a bird within its gilded cage, 
Singing and stretching its wings to dart, 
Perched and clinging against life's rails of rage, 
Shut inside my consecrated heart. 

Extraordinary Mind by Mike Williams 02/14/1999 @ 7:02 A.M.

I do not care what car you drive. where you live. If you know someone who knows someone who knows someone. If your clothes are this year’s cutting edge. If your trust fund is unlimited. If you are A-list B-list or never heard of you list. I only care about the words that flutter from your mind. they are the only thing you truly own. the only thing I will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones and skin. I will not fall in love with the places you have been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind.

Extraordinary Mind by Mike Williams 02/14/1999 @ 7:02 A.M. copyrighted poem under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.