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August Frost

Aug 17, 2005

Stopping By Moods on a Snowy Evening
(with apologies to Robert Frost)

Whose moods these are I think I know
Her name she is not telling though
Her closest friends must think her weird
To cry without good reason near,
Between the calm and smile fake
The darkest season slips a tear.

She gives her shouldersoul a shake
To ask if there is some real ache
The only other sound?s the seep
Of sadness cold like melted flake.

Her life is lovely, dark and deep
But she has swift demons that leap
And smiles to go after they sleep
And smiles to go after they sleep.

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"Service doesn't start when you have something to give; it blossoms naturally when you have nothing left to take."

"Real privilege lies in knowing that you have enough."