(whispered lies)

crudeness of winter

whispered lies in the making

you gave me your word

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Far Off Thoughts

The dog days of summer

Will soon lick the back of your neck

With the sweet sweat of sunshine

While the off-shore breezes throw chills

and moves grains of sand

in tiny swirls

As our great star retires

Replaced by a full moon

And mesmerizing new tides

Pull our thoughts out to sea

And force our thoughts of winter

Back to the secret caves

Of the slick by and by

We will cherish these days

And forget the old

For it’s times like this

We are forced

To only dream of now

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Winter’s End

All the wonders are tied up

Busy at the moment

And there isn’t enough time

Time to contemplate

Time to pine

For the answers

To the questions

Which we never really want to hear

The days will move onward

March towards the deafening end

Where sight and sound

No longer mean anything

And all thoughts, both good and bad

And free-floating

In pools of turmoil, but surrounded in bliss

Float like mindless ways

And pass everything along

For these are the numbered

The many

And the oh-so few

Just like the waves

Just like the music

Just like that fat old sun

And all the brightness

Of this once glorious day

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Winter Nights

Night comes quickly

During the lonely and desolate winter months

Talk is cheap, used sparingly

No one is interested, no one is listening

Great plans are laid to rest

To rise again — but only to again fall

Into the darkness, the nothingness, the mire

But we keep our memories close at hand

To use when the mind’s well runs dry

And the winds blow too cold

© Dicky J Loweman 2015