A PLAN

Beach

Why am I never at a place like this?

Why am I always in a dark room typing?

We all make our choices,

and I have to live with mine.

Maybe…

Too many ‘maybes.’

I need one ‘can.’

I ‘can’ escape to the tropical island.

I’ll throw my computer

into the depths

​of the blue, green ocean.

Sounds good to me.

Sounds like a plan.

COMING FOR ME

I look out the window
and what do I see?
A storm growing in force
and coming for me.
Death comes to town.
It has its own name.
The one that I know
is called The Dead Game.
THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 (Source: stendec)

 

 

I look out the window

and what do I see?

A storm growing in force

and coming for me.

Death comes to town.

It has its own name.

The one that I know

is called The Dead Game.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

 

SUNSET

mistymorningme:
“ Cape Cod July 2013_-60 (by jackfrench)
”
Sunset brings the night,
With it dark shadows.
Hues of red fill the humid air,
Followed by high-pitched howls.
Residents hide behind locked doors,
As tourists huddle in their hotel.
The town...

Cape Cod July 2013_-60 (by jackfrench)

 

Sunset brings the night,

With it dark shadows.

Hues of red fill the humid air,

Followed by high-pitched howls. 

Residents hide behind locked doors,

As tourists huddle in their hotel.

The town waits deserted and quiet,

While the dark forest rumbles with music.

Dignitaries fly in from around the world,

Their limousines line the wooded paths.

Guests mingle and laugh in the glass house,

Where lifelike glass statues watch them.

Beneath it all lies an undercurrent.

One of evil and despair.

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

TROPICAL PARADISE

We fly on a green carpet
through the dense bush.
Mosquitoes for companions
in the moisture-laden air.
Exotic plants fan our faces
as we trek down winding paths.
Snapping sounds taunt us
as we canoe down the river.
The tempo quickens.
The beat picks...

 (Source: quiet-spheres)

 

 

We fly on a green carpet

through the dense bush.

Mosquitoes for companions

in the moisture-laden air.

Exotic plants fan our faces

as we trek down winding paths.

Snapping sounds taunt us

as we canoe down the river.

The tempo quickens.

The beat picks up.

The air becomes heavier.

The sounds louder.

We become one with nature.

Lost in a tropical paradise.

 

 

TROPICAL PARADISE

Oasis offers a tropical paradise.

Palm trees swaying in the breeze.

Bodies lying in the hot sun.

Baking to their hearts’ content.

Cool water to soothe their flesh.

Fresh water or salt on display.

The night brings the trade winds.

Accompanied by dark shadows.

Visitors to the Florida town.

Ready to play their nightly games.

A game for one or two.

It’s all up to you.

THE DEAD GAME

A TROPICAL PARADISE

 

 

Let’s take the green carpet

Through the dense bush.

Mosquitoes our constant companions

Through the moisture-laden air.

Exotic plants fan our way

Through the sounds of the forest.

Shrieks and shouts accompany us

Through the rustling trees.

Snapping sounds follow us

Through our trek in the water.

The tempo quickens.

The beat picks up.

The air becomes heavier.

The sky greener.

We become one with nature.

Lost in a tropical paradise.

AN ISLAND ONTO OURSELVES

HPIM0171

Each one of us is an island.

Drifting in the ocean,

picking up debris along the way.

The debris of life and experiences.

Some of us become lush islands,

welcoming and self-sufficient.

Others build walls around themselves,

becoming lost and finally deserted.

Which type of island are you?

 

HANGING IN THE BALANCE

 
 
Life hangs in the balance.
Calm blue waters.
Pretty pink sand.
Palm trees waving in the breeze.
Life hangs in the balance.
One big burst of wind.
The palm trees will go flying.
Lifted from their roots.
From their anchor to the ground.
One small breeze.
One incidental shift in the wind.
And all could be gone.
The more precarious,
the more precious life becomes.

THE JUNGLE

THE JUNGLE

A tropical jungle you see

Is just perfect for you and me.

We could walk along the creaky bridge,

Better than eating out of our fridge.

The jungle is waiting for us,

So we must get on the next bus.

I want to go into the forest deep

And I don’t want to hear from you a peep.

Walk across the rickety bridge with me,

An adventure is waiting–you’ll soon see.