Ode To The Peacock by Mike Williams 03/26/2016 @ 11:54 P.M.

White spectre appearing of moon and mist, 
Amid the shadows in the coolth of eve. 
Reparting silence in thy watchfullness, 
Stretching thy naked crown on the qui vive. 
O' delight of kings immemorial, 
Lofty the Pavo ever doth remain. 
Thy reputation above other fowl, 
O' thy beauty reigns magesterial. 
Elegant thy splendourous lengthy train, 
Before me the peacock cometh to prowl. 

Hauntingly splitting the still doth thy cry, 
Above the treetops ascends in augury. 
Awakening the sleeping dead that did lie, 
I hear you rail in demagoguery. 
O' great woodland and verdant curator, 
Set high the Gallifromes and Phasinidae.
'Tis your sound that strikes heart as my ears ring, 
O' piercing that voice of the orator. 
Thy echoes seemingly call out to me, 
Come away now, come away now thee sing. 

I observe and sense my feathered reprieve, 
Thy warning seeps into the depths my core. 
Sub umbra floreo slips my relief, 
Sub umbra alarum tuaram come o'er. 
O' phoenix whose tale fans the mythic flame, 
Legendary lore of ashen rebirth. 
Revealed unto me by dying light, 
Swift upon thine thievin' legs hast thou came. 
From the dark undergrowth bearing thy mirth, 
Aliferous taking me toward new flight. 

Ode to Peace by Mike Williams 03/25/2016 @ 11:40 A.M.

O' the paramour of a happy life, 
The banderole of concord oriflamme. 
Thy equanimity eschews all strife, 
And ideals of armistrice O' sustain. 
Spring forth in thy jubilant condition, 
Give birth glorious in the hearts of man. 
Come with thy gifts of hope and serinity, 
Affinial in their sweet fruition. 
Before the world lovingly thee stand, 
Spreading thy golden gown tranquility 

Lay the ruin and destruction of our lives, 
The absence thy light ancient since removed. 
O' comest thou open up our closed eyes, 
That not a balm in Gilead could soothe. 
Vain now our tedious present state, 
Barren the cordiform organ of all. 
Cold thy love unto our children we bequeath, 
As bride and marriage bed vacant and prate. 
None search in quest of thee and hear thy call, 
Our sword buried thy wedding dress beneath. 

The same fate awaits of our predecease, 
O' settle us and thrive hence evermore. 
Stave us our inclination of disease, 
Unknown mankind hitherto peaceful o'er. 
Enchant us with thy most beautiful song, 
And from thy seed taste the divine most fruit. 
Thy bosom filled with loveliest desire, 
In full regalia court us our lives long. 
Strum thy harp, and our hearts, and play thy lute; 
All of heaven and earth thee should aspire. 

Ode To The Asphodels by Mike Williams 03/23/2016 @ 1:05 P.M.

Untarnished daughters under heaven, 
Serenely growing in the ancient field. 
Exhault no hero of men to Elysian, 
Nor kills in the name of gods and sword wield. 
I gaze at the golden fated flower, 
Which blooms glorious unknowing to die. 
Striven to sky without reason doth bloom, 
Asking never for what purpose and power. 
Questioning not its fate as mankind and I, 
Live despite the world's prophets of doom. 

Still they dream in hope of some amaranth, 
Exhausting slowly behind half shut eyes. 
Stirring me within the mind's labyrinth, 
Amid the splendor ephemeral I. 
I dare but observe and refrain cutting, 
If any gods exist, they're made their hand. 
This is all that any need to reason, 
Surely I would not wish to spite neither. 
No difference of life in flower and man, 
And glimmering a short gentle season. 

Grow, bloom, live, thrive, and die the flowers do, 
Changing inward, yet outward much the same. 
Striven against climate to hold their hue, 
Until the good is gone and dried stalk remain. 
Simple the flowers due my liberation, 
lay in the cool of the mossbed's wet grass. 
Wondering no mythological tales, 
And rest from all of man's aggrivation. 
Contented in due course the hours must pass, 
Fading not in time the sweet Asphodels. 

Simple Pleasures by Mike Williams 02/28/2015 @ 10:46 Dedicated to Lisa Slagle

My dearest friend in all creation, 
I asked what made you happy inside. 
You returned an answer without hesitation, 
'Twas simple the list you replied. 

Silent golden sunshine and fresh cut grass, 
Newborn puppy's breath and your Daddy's smile. 
Rare antique colbalt blue bottles of glass, 
Mosaic pictures made of small stone tile. 

Comfortable clean threadbare cotton sheets, 
Bright white as fresh new fallen snow. 
Unplanned adventures down forgotten streets, 
Making it up along the way as we go. 

Lost vintage romantic black and white movies, 
Gathering around a meal with family and friends. 
Random acts of kindness and inward beauty, 
The sort which has not any known ends. 

Said the girl with shrimp pink lips and drop earrings, 
With oversized shawl and plain colored tights. 
Who danced about the garden while birds sing, 
With pale blonde hair kissed by glittering light. 

Sorrow's Sorrow by Mike Williams 06/20/2015 @ 11:40 P.M.

Sorrow could not bear her pain, 
So she made herself a mask. 
Wondering alone amid a great crowd, 
Going quietly as she did pass. 

The gathering of that merry band, 
Sought to invite her come therein. 
Upon a closer long lasting look, 
They too were masquerading within. 

Her cover she then did remove, 
And stared deep into their eyes. 
What came to follow her revelation, 
Was nothing short of a surprise. 

The band of merrymakers quickly scattered, 
Each going their own seperate way. 
Sorrow was left there by herself, 
Confused by the sudden strange display. 

Was it truth or something more, 
Giving cause of them to leave? 
Or the nature of such masses, 
Relishing arts by which men deceive? 

As she stood and pondered there, 
Realizing what she had once known. 
Misery may indeed love some company, 
But sorrow is always completely alone. 

Once Upon A Time by Mike Williams 06/19/2015 @ 10:20 A.M.

The end of every journey, 
Begins with a single step. 
Though I was a dreamer, 
Going nowhere as I slept. 

I knew I must awaken, 
And chance upon life's surprise. 
Shake off my lethargic sleep, 
Wiping stardust from my eyes. 

For my own life's quest, 
I found direction to begin. 
To go and live my dream, 
Until time came for sleep again. 

Now is not the moment, 
For there is living to pursue. 
Dreams aren't made to work, 
Unless at first you do. 

Stepping out of my doorway, 
My feet the street soon hit. 
I discovered many new wonders, 
Along the road I admit. 

At times I turned wrongly, 
My way not always clear. 
I learned something songly, 
In dreams I didn't hear. 

Life is what you make it, 
The middle counts the most. 
I explored far and widely, 
Not to brag or boast. 

On my path to freedom, 
I realized then my crime. 
To have a happy ending, 
Starts once upon a time. 

When Worlds Collide by Mike Williams 06/19/2015 @ 9:10 A.M.

I said that I love you, 
You said you did not care. 
And holding out my own heart, 
You dashed it then and there. 

I thought perhaps you needed me, 
Far more than you ever knew. 
But in your ill moments condition, 
Your words sliced their way through. 

I wanted to be loved for myself, 
And by that very merit alone. 
Knowing that love is not selfish, 
I found strength to carry on. 

As life is not always kind, 
Nor is it often most fair. 
I decided to love you anyway, 
Though you had none to share. 

The world around you a tempest, 
I soon became your inner calm. 
All the while in loving you, 
I discovered my own aplomb. 

Looking back at it all now, 
So much the more you'd chide. 
Growing day by day in love, 
Despite af first when worlds collide. 

Smile by Mike Williams 03/21/2016 @ 8:08 A.M.

I hide behind a smile, 
It often masks my pain. 
I pretend my world is sunshine, 
And hold back my storms and rain. 

I act as if nothing is wrong, 
If you ask I'll say I'm o.k. 
How can I share the awful truth, 
When my inward clouds turn grey? 

I sit in silence as I dwell, 
Longing for so much more in life. 
I watch those around me have fun, 
As I feel the sting and strife. 

I hide my tears in public, 
And put on a show for a while. 
So that no one ever feels my sadness, 
I hide behind a smile. 

Remembrance by Mike Williams 02/04/2016 @ 1:52 A.M.

Let not my words wax poetic in the same way of lunacy. 
I walk the spance of moonlight hours and never for poetry. 
'Tis love that I ever pine for that worms now in the grave. 
And all of my wit and expressions could not a moment stave. 

How it comes so tempered and fleeting and goes like a gentle wind. 
And though I with all of my velveted purple prose and my ink and pen. 
I could not capture and pen down a single heartbreak to save. 
Nor can I find the lifted heels so light of many a former day. 

Knowing too well love is a stately star by which I long to stear. 
And I remain lost in the thick and fog and my love is no longer here. 
So I wonder lost from hour to hour in some strange tangent lunacy. 
Caught in the nets and dashed love's rocks and remember through poetry. 

A Depth of Silence by Mike Williams 10/13/2015 @ 4:56 A.M.

The peaceful silence that lay still a moment before, cut away sharply hence.  
We molested the wind in argument, broke down each other and one another's defense.  

Bright eyes furrowed into a sharpen brow rows, a word strikes a chord in pain.  
A torment which released an internal flood, returned with sharpened tongue again.  

The day lapsed long and we both weary, filled with much regret in our head.  
Neither willing to apologize, nor grovel for all the harsh words openly said.  

But said they were and we both have weeped, grudges tomorrow will keep.  
The distance felt between we two now, parted by a depth of silence to sleep.  

The Battle of Izetbegovic (Trochaic Octameter) by Mike Williams 02/03/2016 @ 7:17 P.M.

I awoke from a dream where long I stood still, 
And images of a bloody battlefield. 
Bodies strewn for as far as the eye could see, 
Lifeless as litter and many men deep. 
Arrows amid the jumble tipped black as pitch, 
Over the battlements and uniform stitch. 
My body quivered and shook and couldn't be still, 
As I observed over that battlefield. 

Alone was I standing in the pungent air so still, 
No life to be found on that battlefield. 
The scent of death brought my eyes to weep, 
As I stumbled over the bodies stacked steap. 
The fletching of arrows seemed oddly eldritch, 
Frozen I stood gazing in some state of bewitch. 
A strange eerie mist arose silently lingering still, 
As I crossed lonely that fearful battlefield.

Once the cannons blazed now broken and still, 
Turned brother against brother on a battlefield. 
A tale that generations will retell and ever keep, 
And brave daring men in their eternal rest sleep. 
Now monuments and a verdant grassy ditch, 
Marking the place and the battle of Izetbegovic. 
A twisted independance dream died in that still, 
And all that remains is an empty battlefield. 

Expulsion From Her Secret Garden by Mike Williams 05/07/2015 @ 4:13 A.M.

She made a way to her secret garden, 
Stretching wide, wild, and vast. 
Leading you down steps rarely trodden, 
Because you politely and enticingly asked. 

Her hopes, dreams, and wishes bloomed 
In many colors, shapes, and sizes there. 
Intoxicating as a sweet, rare, exotic perfume 
With expressions of tender loving care. 

She invited you in past her guarded gate, 
Exposing a delicate world of tendermost truth. 
Desiring nothing more than love to relate, 
She planted and tended it from her youth. 

Through the years she watched it grow 
Sorrounded by an ocean of her tears. 
Sharing it with you to let you alone know, 
Vanquishing away all of her hidden fears. 

Paying no mind as you cut down the flowers, 
Destroying all that she had slowly built. 
Her many reasons, seasons, minutes, and hours 
Of her garden began to crumble and wilt. 

Then pushing you out and locking the gate, 
She swore to herself "never again." 
And began to rebuild anew her garden great, 
Refusing to ever let you back in. 

Tendriled Vine by Mike Williams 02/03/2016 @ 1:17 P.M.

My mind branched out in tendriled vine, 
And heart sprout forth in equel climb. 
Nidified and fêted my soul satisfied, 
Snug between the two twigged and plied. 

The balance I had long since sought, 
Grew and multiplied that which wrought. 
Birthed innumerable around my rib cage, 
So flowered and seeded and agrew saged. 

My eyes opened without and within, 
Tranquil divining beyond physical vision. 
To view, feel, and sense all at the same time, 
Thrill and shoot forth again in tendriled vine. 

Death Came To Call by Mike Williams 03/19/2016 @ 2:10 A.M.

A hero's moon is rising, 
As the night begins to fall. 
Pale as my pulse weakens, 
Soon I must answer death's call. 

Hero's are but made in the mind, 
For they too are fragile men. 
We think about their bravery, 
Their struggle until the bitter end. 

I wonder what those heroes thought, 
For none know how they truly felt. 
We've built them up high in epics, 
Uncertain about the hand they're delt. 

I am no romantic tragic hero, 
But I have long waged the fight. 
To struggle in an uphill battle, 
To live with all of my might. 

I've clung to hope eternal, 
Vowing to not give at the last. 
But choices are only reactions, 
As the heroes of ancient past. 

I had hoped for a grand life, 
A great story left behind to tell. 
A scene of an epical battle won, 
And a hero's journey as well. 

I longed for a dramatic end, 
Something worthy of the cause. 
Noble minded until the finish, 
And death to the crowds applause. 

It all seemed so virtuous, 
Though I've known not of life's ease. 
I never imagined my demise, 
Would wrestle with such disease. 

We talk of beautiful endings, 
We rise, we soar, and die. 
The moon waxed o'er yellow, 
And in the end so did I. 

The Rainbow's End by Mike Williams 01/29/2016 @ 6:12 P.M.

What wonder is there in the sky,   
Cloudy with its touch of grey.   
Between the mist and dappled light,   
Something appears to brighten today.   

I put on my parka and wellingtons,   
Grabbed my faithful yellow brolly.   
Walked down the lane by Mr. Ellington's,   
Who is always just shy of melancholy.   

I could see the prominent hues,   
And wondered where they might hide.   
But I was on the other tip where they fuse,
Much closer to the opposite side.   

I waded through a mud puddle,   
Over a shrub and some flower beds.   
To where the colours suddenly muddled,  
And I wondered where it led.   

A little further down an alley path,   
Just around a couple of grassy bends.   
My soul in all of its marvel hath,   
Finally found the rainbow's end.   

Stars (Tanka) by Mike Williams 01/30/2016 @ 4:16 A.M.

ancient wonderers  
dancing in the firmament  
dreamily waltzing  
glittering in the night sky  
the stars appear in heaven  

Fair Weather Friends by Mike Williams Oct 18 2014 @ 9:54 A.M. Written for Erica Sanders Allen

Fair weather friends, who frolick round about.  
Think you not in vain, they whilst linger to stay.  
In your hour of sorrow, they flock to your feted nest.  
Masked in sympathy, offering shallow glimmers and hollow words.  

Dressed beguiling behind flattering smiles and lamentations.  
Pretense of hope, easily doth roost in the heart.  
Mistaking it's sharp chirp sweet as a sparrow song.  
They gather together in time and reveal their kind.  

As they pluck up their strings and crow aloud.  
Fey for friendship, fey for care of you, fey for promises made.  
Proud as peacocks displaying their tails open.  
Strutting and singing their own warbling praises high.  

The seeds of hope, love, and good will eaten away.  
Drunk upon your sorrows, misfortune, and loss.  
Intent reveals itself perched empty, mourning forgot.  
Clutched in your hand, but a feather shed memory.  

How they danced and made marvelous show.  
Leaving you behind, they have flown far away.  
In silent suffering grief, isolated in the remnant.  
Amongst shadows, until you find your wings again.  

Put misery to your back and let the sun find your beautiful face.  
Taking flight, letting go of fair weathered friends.  

Time Weilds A Jagged Knife by Mike Williams Oct 23 2014 at 10:02 P.M.

Surrender not unto the season,  
Wind swept desires seldom last.  
Long the shadows of a summer day,  
Far from whence it is cast.  

Count the cost to the heart a whim will entail,  
Folly is so rarely kind.  
Well meaning advice others intend to give,  
Unknowing both your heart and mind.  

Seek your own counsel in matters of choice,  
For the sake of your own life.  
Regret has turned many a man against friend,  
Time weilds a jagged knife.  

Torch Song by Mike Williams 01/31/2016 @ 6:33 P.M.

I have sung a tune for far too long, 
It invades my oldest thoughts and memories. 
Sad, lonely, dreary, and deeply strong; 
Pain that caused my tender heart to bleed. 

I'm overtaken in smoke tainted glimpses, 
A fire snuffed out that used to burn. 
At times I feel I've lost my senses, 
And other moments think of lessons learned. 

The years have passed and the tune remains, 
But I am hardly the same as I used to be. 
Life moves on and though I'm not to blame, 
I have discovered a different side of me. 

Though nothing will take away the past, 
I have learned to forgive and move along. 
For love is a way of being that will outlast,
And I put to bed that old torch song. 

Writer's Block by Mike Williams 02/02/2016 @ 10:37 P.M.

Today I don't feel much like writing, 
I seem to have lost the muse. 
It's been quite a grueling week, 
My mind is all confused. 

My work is dull at the moment, 
I feel dismal at this time. 
Perhaps I should take a break, 
And recharge my soul and mind. 

There are days that come and go, 
Often without a single hitch. 
Today is not one of those, 
Words don't make my ears itch. 

Maybe they will tomorrow, 
But I have no way to be sure. 
How I wish it was so simple, 
To find a writer's block cure. 

If I Tell You Something by Mike Williams 03/18/2016 @ 11:44 a.m.

If I tell you something truthful, 
Something with meaning deep. 
Would you take the time to listen, 
Or hear only with intent to speak? 

People so often like to talk, 
But few truly give an open ear. 
They're interested in what they say, 
And very rarely ever hear. 

I pour out what's in my heart, 
Or what is inside of my mind. 
It's like speaking into the wind, 
It seems that is what I find. 

Would you listen to what I'm saying, 
I wonder what you'd learn and keep? 
If I tell you something truthful, 
Something with meaning deep. 

Discourse of Reason by Mike Williams 03/16/2016 @ 10:10 P.M.

Don't tell me what to think, 
Don't tell me how to feel. 
Don't tell me what is and isn't 
Realy, realy, realy, real. 

Don't tell me that you love me, 
Don't just ignore my pain. 
Don't neglect me time 
And again, again, again. 

I am only human, 
I have my dreams, my hopes, and my pride. 
You keep saying that you love me, 
But your actions say that you lied. 

I keep on forgiving, 
But I can never quite forget. 
In the midst of living, 
I feel far too much regret. 

I'm just a shadow on the wall, 
I'm standing too close to the brink. 
So don't tell me what I feel, 
And don't assume to know what I think. 

Seeds of Doubt by Mike Williams 03/17/2016 @ 8:19 A.M.

You planted seeds of doubt, 
Deep inside of my mind. 
And they grew and grew, 
Into a thorny wicked vine. 

The vine choked out memory, 
Until it was all I knew. 
It strangled every breath of hope, 
And the truth I'd been through. 

You whispered in my ear, 
Deceived me time after time. 
Until your voice is all I hear, 
For manipulation is your crime. 

I search for the old me, 
Somewhere within and without. 
A trail of confusion is all I see, 
Left behind your seeds of doubt. 

Paradox by Mike Williams 02/02/2016 @ 1:55 P.M.

The mind does vex and vim, 
As the tree both roots and reach. 
The heart ebbs and flows, 
Like waves upon the beach 

Are we not a contradiction? 
Between spirit and the flesh. 
To soar to heights unimagined, 
And bound by fragile gossamer mesh. 

How perception becomes reality, 
Ourselves we but faintly know. 
Truth so often escapes us, 
Amid the spectacle and show. 

In persuit of certain definition, 
It's difficult to lable and box. 
As we have often witnessed, 
This life is a constant paradox. 

Too Late by Mike Williams 02/02/2016 @ 12:49 P.M.

Odd spectre now you come, 
As I am strangely fay. 
Weary of this wicked world, 
And worn myself away. 

For what is in its purpose, 
Perchance material gain you seek? 
You'd not visit among the strong, 
But come you now unto the weak. 

As I near to cross over, 
I sense your presence at my side. 
Looming large and darkly dreary, 
For the past that you chide. 

Pretense does not suit you, 
For I knew you once before. 
Here comely, meek and humble, 
Feigning love and goodness more. 

I have one foot in the coffin, 
The other on shaky ground. 
My mind turned toward the grave, 
Yet now you come around. 

I was never a man of wealth, 
Except in matters of the heart. 
People have been my greatest treasure, 
But by death all forced to part. 

Your motives are transparent, 
As you have always been. 
I have nothing left to give you, 
You've come too late my friend. 

A Star Is Born by Mike Williams 01/02/2016 @ 8:14 A.M.

O' how you've tried to sparkle, 
And for a moment you shine. 
Some have tried to dim your light, 
For they prefered to keep you blind. 

They steal away your brilliance, 
And dull your senses down. 
As your life begins to rise, 
It is your hopes they drown. 

But you were made to glitter, 
And belong up in the sky. 
They wouldn't let you ascend, 
Because they couldn't themeselves fly. 

It's been said a million ways, 
Misery prefers to keep company. 
And so they've tried to tame you, 
To hold you bound and unfree. 

You slowly began to lose your glow, 
Your inner fire begins to die. 
As you are left to reason, 
And ask the question why? 

It is not anything you have done, 
It's simply because of what you are. 
And they were envious knowing, 
You were born to be a star. 

Put Out The Flame by Mike Williams Oct 23 2014 at 9:12 P.M.

Did my heart beat a thousand times and flush rushes of feeling unto my head. 
Recounting moments inbetween seconds, reflecting upon words said. 

Awaiting tender touch of you and longing to taste soft sweetness of kiss. 
I arise and fall to the depth of each day, drinking in this sacred serene bliss. 

In eager anticipation awaiting upon the threshold of your heart's closed door. 
Asking that you open it wide and enter me in, never shutting it hence more. 

Knowing that by morning neither of us, shall ever be quite the same. 
And take me into your loving arms, turn out the light and put out the flame. 

Starlight by Mike Williams Oct 23 2014 at 12:23 a.m.

Patterns of stars gird the firmament overhead, 
Mapping the way of weary travellers home to bed. 

Guiding the sailor at sea safely to a familiar shore, 
Sparking the imagination of such dreamers evermore. 

They come out at night while the sun is out of view, 
Giving a little glow in the blackness for me and you. 

Singing an ancient song that few seldom ever hear, 
Reminding us that heaven is watching all we hold dear. 

When we find ourselves in darkness, fear, and fright, 
They remind us all is well if we remember to shine a light. 

Moonlight and Memory by Mike Williams 9/15/2015 @ 7:20 A.M.

Walk with me down memory lane, over the bridge of the moon. 
With gossimer nets full of fairy dust, where the frogs and crickets croon. 

You and I can catch the sky, in our little sailboat's mast. 
Then sail upon moonlight glint waters, rippling into childhood past. 

Bring your colored pencils, glitter, and flowers, and I'll bring mine. 
We can while away the splendid hours, just like olden times. 

Tell me stories that I may treasure, and I'll do the same for you. 
Then returning to shore once more, before the early morning dew. 

Under the blanket of stars we'll sleep, in our sleeping rolls. 
We can tell our deepest secrets, that nobody else knows. 

The Whispers Of The Night by Mike Williams 9/5/2015 @ 9:13 P.M.

Still, somber, quiet, deep, and dark, 
Something whispers into my heart. 
A time, a place, at peace, I thrive, 
Reminders that I yet remain alive. 

Starlight upon an enchanted blue, 
Wink down at me as they always do. 
The trees rustle soft as if to say, 
Tomorrow is hope in another day. 

For now the world sleeps in its rest, 
Listening to heartbeats within my chest. 
Stay a while and let troubles fade from sight, 
And listen to the whispers of the night. 

Eating My Heart Out by Mike Williams 9/2/2015 @ 6:16 P.M.

When I was a child, I had a heart of glass, 
Disappointment rendered easily broken. 
Fragile beyond measure and innocently cast, 
Clouded and cracked by lies and words ill spoken. 

When I was a young man, I had a heart of stone, 
Formed by trials and bitterness of years. 
Broken and pieced together, hard as bone, 
Unrelenting and cold, defensive against my fears. 


As I grew older, my heart became flesh and soft, 
In tune with feelings and forgotten emotions. 
Returning to remembered childhood thought lost, 
Remourseful and salty tears, weeping an ocean. 


In old age, My heart of woes turned facing within, 
Seeing a new perspective, beyond former doubt. 
Love filled my broken vessel, making whole again, 
Many times I recall the past, eating my heart out. 

Dancing With Dandelions by Mike Williams 9/2/2015 @ 1:32 P.M.

In evening's field of yellow and gold. 
Beneath clear blue skies a secret told. 

With the hush of soft summer breeze. 
Where children play with frolicsome ease.

Amid the laughter and sheer delight. 
Before the lightning bugs come out at night. 

A place exists where wishes are made. 
And daydream eternal as heads are laid. 

Butterflies hover on breaths of perfume. 
As the bee's wings beat a gentle tune. 

With soft puffs dandelions loose their hair. 
Floating upon boys and girls breaths of air. 

Ladybugs languish among feathered Sirens. 
As childhood goes dancing with dandelions. 

Crimson Petals by Mike Williams 9/2/2015 @ 9:23 A.M.

Beneath the crimson petals bloom. 
A thorn that pricks unyeilding doom. 
Verdant with it's mantle red. 
Concealing sinister barbs which bled. 

The hand that grasps at justice's pride. 
Finds no solice there where truth denied. 
Great judges all tend a bitter weed. 
Choke the mind and liberty's seed. 

How corruption cut innocence by assail. 
Turned deaf ears and tipped the scale. 
And planted roses in it's garden. 
Where men can't see how hearts have hardened. 

Lay the lives of saddened waste. 
Captive behind bars and iron gates. 
Long the sorrowful blade turned rows. 
Where the crimson petal grows. 

Little Things by Mike Williams 01/30/2016 @ 11:51 P.M.

The wind blows through the fairy chimes, 
How they tinkle in sweet delight. 
The snow drops blossom fair in morning sun, 
And display their bowed heads of white. 

A wren chirps bright and gay upon the fence, 
As I watch on with a smile. 
I linger on the front porch swing taking it in, 
And rest my happy heart a while. 

The trees show chartreuse buds anew, 
Coming blooms in the spring. 
The cardinal, the sparrow, and the mocking bird, 
Charm the world in songs they sing. 

I feel my soul renewed out in the garden, 
How it brushes all pains away. 
Here I am most alive and feel bursting with life, 
It's the little things that make my day.

Dandelion (Cinquain) by Mike Williams 01/29/2016 @ 6:55 P.M.

Reseeding.  
Wispy, soft. 
Sunning, growing, floating.  
Whispers on a springtime breeze.  
Dandelion.  

Tea Time For Two by Mike Williams 01/29/2016 @ 5:01 P.M.

In the childhood world of little girls, 
Tea time is something special to do. 
Lace tablecloths and white lattice trim, 
And a place set for me and you. 

In the midst of the table stacked high, 
Finger sandwiches, scones and cream. 
Chocolate covered strawberries and petits fours, 
And a host of wonderous things. 

There is extra places for company, 
And bublegum and lemonade tea with mint. 
Little matching place mat sets and caddy, 
And a special chair for Mr. Elephant. 

Tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine, 
Lets talk about our favorite things of the day. 
Would you care for some ginger and lime, 
What sort of games do you like to play? 

The happiest part of it all is not the feast, 
It's spending time among friends true. 
Big hats and feathers are worn at least, 
But there is always tea time for two. 

Wild Oats by Mike Williams 03/10/2016 @ 1:02 A.M.

While you were sowing your wild oats, I sprouted and outgrew you.

The Dance of Dust by Mike Williams 01/29/2016 @ 10:55 A.M.

I sit in the room of afternoon sun, 
Light streams warmth into my window. 
As I ponder my life in detail all that's been done, 
And stare out blankly at the twisted willow. 

A glint of glittering particles rise and fall, 
Dust caught weightlessly in the air stirs. 
I turn to watch the sight as I recall, 
And observe as a delicate balance occurs. 

In the shadows the dust descends, 
And the light gives it power to rise. 
In a moment my life makes sense, 
The dance of dust before my eyes. 

Chill Upon The Air by Mike Williams 8/28/2015 @ 2:06 p.m.

The rush and pulse of heat course through my veins. 
Warmth of breathed vapor against cold winter air. 
Here alas to this Deutschland pristine, calm I came. 
Locked away, and hidden from view in your lair. 

This heart once full of promise, aches with regret. 
Spans of time wear at the helm, I feel the bleed. 
Sharp edges of me well up and cut outward abreast. 
Unrequited love is hopeless, with one single need. 

Time scratches anew, ticks the clock slow as death. 
Trapped in your golden cage, restless I the hour. 
Fog the window, trace a shape out of misty breath. 
Wondering If I'll escape, beyond clouds that lour. 

You ask how I am, but listen not as words impasse. 
You take no notice at all any part, this shattered me. 
I am reflection and shadows, glint upon glass. 
Love is just a word spoken, without any meaning. 

This is how I know for certain, that you don't care. 
I take my leave unoticed, silent as chill upon the air. 

People Are Not Gardens by Mike Williams 01/29/2016 @ 1:10 A.M.

I found a forgotten garden, 
Neglected through the years. 
I cleaned it out and replanted, 
With blood, strife, and tears. 

I mended its shabby walls, 
And pruned its prickly vines. 
Tending it with deepest love, 
I planted flowers in its lines. 

I visited it every day, 
And saw to all its needs. 
But hidden beneath its surface, 
Sprung up deeply rooted weeds. 

Though I tried to pull them, 
Some simply would not give. 
Over time they grew vast, 
Choaking flowers that had lived. 

The roots grew thick and forceful, 
And broke outside of its bounds. 
All of my work went to waste, 
Making a mess of what I found. 

I left it a little disheartened, 
My fingers bare to the bone. 
Some people are not gardens, 
And better off completely left alone. 

Without You (Free Verse) by Mike Williams 01/28/2016 @ 7:00 P.M.

I have never seen the sky quite as azure, 
Nor the grass so vivid viridescent. 
As I held your hand and walked with you, 
My world transformed into iridescent colors. 

I felt a skip in my step and my heart thump, 
Everything seemed brand spanking new. 
It was being in love that gave me this feeling, 
And I experienced it but once in my life. 

Time it seemed conspired against us, 
It has since taken you away from me. 
And gone are the wonderful hues I once saw, 
The love and warmth that I have known. 

I stood at the side of the bed and held your hand, 
Kissed your forehead and closed your eyes. 
Then the hurst came to carry you away from me, 
The rain poured down and I could not move. 

I looked at the flowers in bloom on our balcony, 
Each and every one that we planted together. 
My sight would not take in their magnificence, 
And I felt a part of my very soul had taken leave. 

It has been many years and I am not the same, 
I doubt that there is hope for my recovery.
The days drag on endlessly and I think of you, 
And await my time to cross our divide alas. 

I have known one great love and lost you, 
My heart aches the moments away constant. 
I have only my memories to comfort me, 
Alone and lost all the more without you. 

Drake (Cinquain) by Mike Williams 01/28/2016 @3:12 P.M.

Duck. 
Feathered, fowl. 
Swimming, quacking, frolicking. 
Elegance upon the pond's surface. 
Drake. 

When Tomorrow Comes by Mike Williams 10/15/2015 @ 10:42 P.M.

Gone are the trees and the bees, the birds have flown away. 
Flowers wilt and the garden dies, wind blows off the top soil and clay. 

As the forests disappear with their dew, the rains come no more. 
Beating down with striking heat, the sun burns brighter than before. 

We filled the seas with mercury and poisons we knew not well. 
The fish began to disappear and die, none to buy, eat, or sell. 

And all the while in the world of men, none thought to look ahead. 
When tomorrow comes our ways abandoned late, the earth is already dead.

Reflections of Love by Mike Williams 10/6/2015 @ 9:13 A.M.

Love is not a scale of measure. 
Love is not at all blind. 
Love takes into account a greater treasure. 
Looking past faults one at a time. 

It is not a perfect match, or mate. 
It is simply what one must do. 
It does not ever hesistate. 
Love becomes a part of you. 

Love can not be bought, or sold. 
Love can't be cheapened away. 
Love hardly resembles as it is often told. 
It is in everything you do and say. 

It is not an emotional feeling. 
It requires extreme sacrifice. 
It has no floor, nor ceiling. 
No walls could ever suffice. 

Love is a precious gift. 
Love itself the only worthy return. 
Love is giving another a helpful lift. 
Content to allow itself to burn. 

Love is not some splendid phrase. 
It shows where it most can count. 
Unlike lust, love is not a phase. 
There is no limit to love's amount. 

It sees truth and looks beyond. 
Love is patient; doesn't push, nor shove. 
It's the glue for human hearts to bond. 
There is much wonder in this thing called love. 

Reflection; a open heart willing to take a fall. 
Perfection is not the goal of love after all. 

Enchanted by Mike Williams 10/14/2015 @ 10:12 A.M.

I dreamt a dream of things unseen. 
Of beauty, hope, and emaculate clean. 

My world held together by imagination. 
And sowed seed by seed without reservation. 
  
Though I could not know its course. 
Little by little I labored without remorse. 

A garden grew and a forest sprung. 
Flourised and dewed and kissed with sun.

Bright blossoms greeted me endless days. 
My dream come true, I stood amazed. 

Where I planted hope every dark hour before. 
Banished the shadows in time evermore. 

Looking back much to my surprise. 
I observed my fruits and realised. 

A seed of hope repeatedly planted. 
Tended with love becomes enchanted. 

Deeply Dark by Mike Williams 10/13/2015 @ 3:02 P.M.

In my heart there's a place darkly deep. 
A wood overgrown full of mysteries keep. 

A path meanders through its haunting thick. 
And magic weaves memories by dim lights trick. 

A place I often visit while I'm alone. 
Reminders of childhood are at home. 

In the shadows and hidden dank. 
Among its treasured floor forgot flowers thank. 

Where the tree boughs arch and weep. 
A part of me hidden where black waters seep. 

The secret remains of a lonely heart. 
I roam a wood feeling deeply dark. 

Should you search beyond my blank stare. 
Enter into that old forest and find me there. 

Corruption of Innocence by Mike Williams 10/29/2015 @ 5:53 P.M.

Innocense comes but once, they call it naive. 
Then evil crept in hidden, and did its worst to decieve. 

It was not in the knowing who to trust, which didst kill. 
Cunning is to the darkness a primary skill.

And we who were innocent, suffered a great loss. 
All who have fallen into the frey with a toss. 

It strangled and choked us, though we didst fight. 
And dragged us away under the shadows of night. 

Mindscape by Mike Williams Tuesday 11/17/2015 @ 9:41 A.M.

Words flit and flutter inside my mind. 
No sleep my weary bones will find. 

I scribble and scrawl to capture them all. 
Amidst my emotions they rise and fall. 

With fingers of fury I scratch the page. 
Fumble to construct perfection like a sage. 

With delicate wings dusted over complete. 
Their origins birthed and again repeat. 

Distant, and dazed, and dazzled am I. 
Giving breath to thought and let it fly. 

Day dreams alone shall never quite be. 
Yet spring fourth from the mind of me. 

I can not await a moment, nor hesitate. 
Collecting the subtle fringes of a mindscape. 

My Heart In Your Hands by Mike Williams 11/24/2015 @ 11:37 P.M.

The orb of my affections is yours alone to command. 
Care for it lovingly in confidence and try to understand. 

Not by might, nor power, nor some possible design. 
Simply as a gift by choice of a permanant kind. 

It no longer belongs to me, it is yours alone. 
And in your fingers it longs to be returned unto its home. 

I give my heart to you complete, I'm just a simple man. 
You hold the abode of love from me, in the palm of your hand. 

At The Touch of Love by Mike Williams 11/30/2015 @ 12:17 A.M.

My heart was frozen over by years of mistreatment and neglect. 
Fear, worry, and past abuse wore through in retrospect. 

I built high walls none could climb over and bared every door. 
Afraid to thaw and feel again, until someone worth melting for. 

I was cold and callised over, then suddenly along came you. 
You broke a way to my heart, warming me through and through. 

I tasted love for the first time, unlike I had ever know before. 
Because of love's gentil touch, I'm not frozen anymore. 

Displayed Heart by Mike Williams 01/27/2016 @ 9:03 P.M.

It is never easy to put your heart out for display, 
Fearful and regretful for what others might say. 
To look into the mirror and speak brave and bold, 
Exposing your subtleties from the heart you hold. 

As I stare into my reflection looking back at me, 
With all my imperfection of my plain humanity. 
I see myself a little clearer with my flaws and all, 
Many bumps and bruises and scars from every fall. 

I have learned to appreciate the separate parts I see, 
These little testements of my own living history. 
I am resolved to claim them each and every part, 
Nothing could be more beautiful than a displayed heart. 

Smoke Rings by Mike Williams 01/27/2016 @ 8:20 A.M.

Smoke rings around my finger, 
Deep in pensive thought am I. 
Coffee stains upon paper sheets, 
Where my feeling scribed now lie. 

Pearls of words strung together, 
Recount images of distant meorable past.
Bleed together in hazen vision, 
By mood and moment now cast. 

A feeling of gutted emptiness, 
Evoked by each I scrawl. 
What is purged and paged, 
Is but smoke rings after all. 

Gumdrop World by Mike Williams 01/25/2016 @ 5:27 P.M.

It's a gumdrop world filled with candied rainbowed skies, 
Lollipop laughter and chocolate kisses. 
Cotton candy floss clouds and sugar crusted cherry surprise, 
Butterscotch dreams and syrup-filled wishes. 

Painted marzipan flowers and salt water taffy trees, 
Penut brittle houses and candy cane lanes. 
How happy the gumdrop world of childhood can be, 
Plum pudding playful and toffee cake games. 

Life is an Ocean by Mike Williams 01/26/2016 @ 7:15 P.M.

I went to the ocean to soothe my soul, 
And watch the ebb and flow of endless blue. 
Out in the offing the calm I longed for, 
Subsided into a mist of hazen hue. 

Along the sandy beech the waves were lapping, 
Foamed and rolled harshly in again. 
I tarry a moment to catch my breath, 
Beside the waters of the torrent ocean. 

Long I stood in silent thought and observation, 
And like the tide my life often seemed. 
It peaked fast and flowed in slow elation, 
Somewhere torn between the rough and serine. 

Breathless by Mike Williams 01/25/2016 @ 10:23 A.M.

My heart beats upon ear drums, 
With a rapid rabid thump. 
I pulse and swell but can not tell, 
My body crumples to a slump. 

I feel the touch of your fingers, 
And slack down weightily. 
My mind reels the moment in, 
As you are kissing me. 

I feel as though time is frozen, 
The room begins to spin. 
Without hessitation for my weakness, 
You take my breath again. 

Stone, Brick, and Stick by Mike Williams 01/25/2016 @ 9:10 A.M.

Sticks and stones and hard scones, 
I'll take the time for tea. 
And build a house and make it home, 
With words thrown at me. 

Wolves shall come and will go, 
They lose no sleep for sheep. 
When pigs fly I will cry, 
But never let you see me weep. 

I'm stronger than I appear, 
My skin has grown quite thick. 
And stronger still for what I built, 
With stone, brick, and stick. 

Mortal Coil by Mike Williams 01/25/2016 @ 3:58 A.M.

I carry around this mortal coil, 
Asking the question why? 
What is life if an empty shell, 
To grow up, grow weary, and die? 

I look to the light of stars, 
Burned out so long ago. 
Their light shines ethereally, 
I wonder if they know? 

I question reason, heaven, and earth, 
What is the point of it all? 
Are we not men wanting to be birds, 
To fly, to rise, and fall? 

To this, this is my single reply. 
I am ready, ready to die. 

Tears of The Heart (Haiku) by Mike Williams 01/24/2016 @ 11:33 P.M.

black clouds full of pain  
bursting in rain and downpours  
tears of the heart 

Contemplation by Mike Williams 01/25/2016 @ 8:22 P.M.

Beyond the shadows of crest covered hill,
Betwixt the spring and path. 
I wondered lonely contemplating my will, 
Knowing not myself by half. 

There in the midst an opening cleared, 
Among the violets in bloom. 
I sat a spell and longingly peered, 
Gently upon the clear flume. 

In that moment of subtle reflection, 
I pondered deeply my core. 
Shadows broke into sunlight perfection, 
And I knew myself all the more. 

Delicate Dandelion by Mike Williams 01/24/2016 @ 7:54 P.M.

We ran far afield upon the wind, of summer sun and grass. 
I did not know then, those wonderous days were never ment to last. 
We were small both you and I, and time held not yet its turn and sway. 
Two young boys in their prime of life, looking forward to our future days. 

The fields have almost dissappeared, and the old trees and tracks live on. 
We grew up and went our separate ways, and childhood grew distant and bygone. 
You went to your high school and I to mine, but in our hearts were friends. 
I often think about the days, when we chased the warm summer winds. 

How we used to stare up at the night sky, and point out various constellations. 
Then life took you away from me once again, and each our own destinations. 
From time to time I look up and remember, how you used to love seeing Orion. 
When you left this world so suddenly, like breath upon a delicate dandelion. 

The Whirlybird by Mike Williams 01/24/2016 @ 12:08 P.M.

Grandpa bought a Whirlybird, a strange looking contraption. 
It was painted limelight green and beckoned for endless action. 
Brian, Kyle, Jeff, and I were not sure what it would do. 
We climbed atop, clutched its grips and pulled fro and to. 

It began to spin round and round, we began to laugh and giggle. 
Brian was holding on with one hand and in the other held a pickle. 
Faster we went and with such speed, much to our surprise. 
As grandpa looked on with an ear to ear grin and with smiling eyes. 

That old man loved us boys, though he had so little he could buy. 
We spent many hours playing and we were the apple of grandpa's eye. 
We knew that we were loved and though he rarely said a word. 
We often think of grandpa and his wonderful Whirlybird. 

The Maiko by Mike Williams 01/24/2016 @ 3:55 P.M.

She paints her face to hide her truth, 
Watch her float and glide. 
Wrapped in a silken kimono of jasmine scent, 
With a parasol at her side. 

Cherry blossoms dangle delicate her crown, 
Her hair combed up high. 
She crosses the moon bridge as a cloud, 
Between the earth and sky. 

Playing her shamisen by night and sings, 
Envious the little nightengale. 
Hypnotic fans dance elegantly light as air,
The Maiko tells her tale. 

Somewhere Deep In Thought by Mike Williams 01/24/2016 @ 3:14 P.M.

I have crossed the threshold of distant dream, 
And stopped the clock on the wall. 
A moment eternal of ethereal light and beem, 
I sense a wonder and awe. 

Lint from my pocket I hold before me, 
There a universe within my hand. 
As I move softly beyond in motionless ease, 
Into a bright star-filled land. 

Bathed in glow I feel myself quite strange,
Traversing across the pages of time. 
From a moment deep in thought I awake, 
And watch the clock hand wind.