Some hearts run with ice and fire
cold of hate, heat of desire
with souls formed of solid stone
hence from birth they are alone

What they think is love, pure lust
which in time turns into rust
leaving him to seek elsewhere
for another fool to care

Guard your heart so full and pure
before you open it be sure
ere the push proceeds to shoving
that he's capable of loving

Beautiful little blackbird
Greeting the first light of dawn
Fluting and chirping his repertoire
Richly waking a sweet summer morn.

Standing atop a gate post
Singing his song so mellow
Distracting and attracting a mate
With his bill and eye ring of yellow.

Plumping his feathery suit
Darting his beak in the soil
Stretching and pulling out juicy worms
That wriggle and curl in a coil.

a thousand miles of silence

started with one step
over an edge --
never retraced

quiet, too exquisite
to leave behind
and return to cacophony's fray

still live in noise,
but silence is here --
a trusted friend who offers refuge

from helter-skelter of the street
outside the door --
never-ending it seems

cars going, people yelling, occasional gunshots
dogs barking, cat-fights at night
want to turn down the volume

Little girl, trying to sleep in your bed
don’t listen to the sound of the bombs nearby
just close your eyes and try not to cry
and let your brother sing you a lullaby.

And don’t listen to the noise of the guns
as the bullets flash by your door, don’t cry
just think of the peace found in sleep
while your brother sings you a lullaby.

Little girl, as you sleep in your bed
when you dream, try not to dream of the day
when soldiers came with their guns
and took your father away.