through these blindfolds

the guns are aimed;

through these blindfolds,

we cannot see.

polluted among the suited;

invisible pickpockets hover,

dictators speak

in such a beautifully counterfeited manner

all to get the trusting convinced.

and yet before we know it,

they have us all setting sail

 in the ocean of the deceived.

 the guns are aimed;

through these blindfolds,

we cannot see.

polluted are we,

among the suited.

don’t let us get away.

c.  2016  bgw

nothing more

it was nothing more than an idea.

declaring it as a “never could be” –

even before it started.

when opportunity knocked,

you did not answer.

the time was made to believe

that somebody really cared.

and yet all that was left

when i looked back at her;

was a lonely soul who really

just hides behind their fears.

the pieces from a past were being picked up;

one puts it all back together

with the glue of the things that were planed.

i was nothing more than a notion.

and you were that someone

that gave me hope once again.

and yet i was blind to see

that you would be that someone

that would break me down again.

 yet i was blind to see

that “fool” was written on my face;

and you were up there not even second guessing it.

it was nothing more than an idea.

i was nothing more than a notion.

c.2016  bgw

stay with me

stay with me –

these dreams are real.

a fucking heavy presents breathes a past that haunts

and scares away any promising future.

oh – there you are;

stay with me.

i felt your touch once before

perhaps while the midnight moon

came and sought the waves coming ashore.

 moonshine gulped up the plea;

didn’t you see?,

the sunrise engulfed any reason

and yet i am still left alone

to give you my all..

c. 2016 bgw

in the morning

if we turned away.

if we just drove away from it all;

gone would be a past

left to pass.

pain is like a mirror

and it reflects back if we keep looking at it.

and yet,

in all that hurt that dwells within –

it can quickly disappear;

take a look at my hand in yours –

looking forward,

we find –

in each day’s sunrise

a beginning.

and if we both untie our chains,

we just may find

the love we have been needing.

c. 2016  bgw

in the magnificent moonlight

the oil lamp burns,

casting a solitaire shadow on the wall.

dancing and flickering,

the flame illuminates through the white wine filled glass;

looking like tiny little stars.

the South Dakota wheatfields sway;

the cool harvest breeze

infuses the open sky.

but here,

in this cozy prairie cabin,

the quills ink left these words,

scribbled

and slow to dry on paper.

these words are always

about a dream that still lives –

deep and hidden;

casted aside – but never forgotten –

but always haunts.

when i wake

i have seen you;

when i sleep –

i have been with you.

under this moonlight,

and under these stars that know;

only told in stars that fall.

c.  2016  bgw