
where the rainbow ends
what a pot of gold can’t buy
rest for the weary

where the rainbow ends
what a pot of gold can’t buy
rest for the weary

in the spring of life
without signs of trauma
a song yet unsung

cat in the window
a thousand words aren’t enough
to paint one picture
yet thirty one syllables
to describe one of nine lives

to live each moment
to be totally open
whatever now brings

April may be gone
May flowers saying loudly
thanks for the showers