Of Seasons and Home

Dearest friends, (or more likely: friend,)

I have been away from my blog too long--this I certainly know--and loathe though I am to proffer excuses, in this case, I have a good one: I have spent the past few months toiling in the salt mines of my imagination in hope that I might expedite the writing of my book. THE OTHERSIDE, draws nearer and nearer to completion. Indeed, the vast majority of the volume is ready for an editor's eye. I anticipate its completion come April of 2010.

For the present, however, I offer a silly little acoustic poem, written in matter of several minutes on a marvelous May afternoon. I call it: Of Seasons and Home.

Of Seasons and Home

Where spring will bring a bird to sing and warm a withered wood,
Where summer's breeze sends news of seas, but only when it's good,
Where autumn always enters late and winter exits soon,
Where hope is always higher held than any air baloon,
Where every mind will freely find encouragement to roam,
On life, I swear, till I've no air--
That place will be my home.