Baby spider On the wall, Curl yourself Into a ball. When I touch you Pray don't fall; Baby spider Start to crawl.more

Writing is my only recreation A lonely midnight celebration Life is rewrite And daily revision A decomposing composition Still I'm living This life of recession Reliving these nights of past regression Summer, a lost and fallen horizon Skeletal signs of autumn arising This old house Like a ghost ship unmoving Amid the moonlight and illusion Dementia is a growing dimension A mind left open to suggestion Now the secret circle's back in session Dedicated souls of self expression Those old tenants taking up residence Regaining footholds like the elementsmore

Have you seen the Green Man standing in the trees? Whistling with the bluebirds, humming with the bees Did you see the May Queen drinking from her gourd? Offering him the sweet green liquor that is poured Maybe he's a scarecrow, all his straw still green Waiting for the harvest, and for Halloween Do you feel the summer falling day by day? Colors of the flowers slowly growing gray Some say he's a savior on his cross forlorn Where the corn and barley die to be reborn Can you feel the autumn frost upon the lawn? And the call to Nature's Altar of the Dawn Behold the first snowfall on the frozen field The winter crows picking last of summer's yield At morning communion after midnight mass Cathedral of a new day sunrise through stain glass Have you seen the Green Man standing in the trees? Keeper of the secret circle no-one sees Spilling kind libations on bare standing stones Caring for the barren Mother Earth's old bonesmore