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The fire light of desert sunrise, Lambent on the proud east walls of Red Rock Canyon, Repeats its primordial routine, dancing Over Spanish tiled roofs, palm trees, cactus. Oh, day— you are a peculiar stage—

A pause, then piercing silence in the windstorm Lasting long enough for me to be thankful For a brief reprieve from the rattles and din Ravaging our Balboa Bay mineral exploration tent-camp On a frightening

I recall with perfect clarity, Yet an inability to describe, The smell of my grandfather’s shop From when I was a young, happy boy. There existed a faint aura of magic About the simple cinder block structure,

She knew injustice from a distance It pained her just the same, No, not the same, But tears did well from her eyes Wetting the backs of her hands, her arms As she relived the images of his death— A Nigerian

Maria Flores loves her father, knowing who he is— A man of courage— Carving his empire From the cactus dotted desert hillside near Hidalgo Where his prized Espadín agave farm Crafts the finest musty Mezcal

An ice shelf cracked Began to drift Like a person after disaster. But hearts still warm for a smile And love finds a way— and sorrow. There’s no easy way Along your journey, To believe so is deceit. When

River rocks bend to water’s will Creating new channels, new current, Silver flecks green edges of riparian leaves, Canadian geese idly searching for treasure. Is the world still alive if my eyes don’t

While on my normal daily walk An orange and errant monarch butterfly Graced the summer sky in passing flutter, Navigating a galaxy of cottonwood snow Drifting from Idaho riverbank trees. Often it’s the

A child asks the old groundskeeper Watering graceful gardens In amber desert sun, “Do you like watering trees? There are so many, It must take forever.” “There’s more to it than that,” Says the strong

As you move boldly from this time to next Focus on the steps, Firmly advancing your decision Despite true worries undercutting your confidence. Know that love is a swifter current than fear, And that billowing

Sheep roam hillside Beneath soft summer skies Aware of the knife in the barn. Sweet grass underfoot, Shepherds guarding each step, Sheep eat their fill... For a time. My mind knows the truth, that Men

Even the truest sweet love Soaring skyward purely Cannot capture her entire heart, Nor should it, you beautiful bird. Image source Read more at desertidaho.com Thanks!

BLOOD IN THE STREETS!!!!!! The global banking cartel DOES NOT want you to buy gold and silver. So buy gold and silver now! Baron Rothschild said "Buy when there's blood in the streets, even if the

Autumn rain wetted her hair Soft, like a morning kiss, Adding chill to the tragedy, and Blistering every solemn footstep As she walked alone in great grief From an unexpected departure with love. Image

Steemit Slam Week 1       The theme this week: LEAVING Prize for 1st place: 30 SBD + 50% of this post’s author SBD payout How to win: Write a poem, a story, a song, any form of lyrical content

The Root of All Evil by Rory, The Daily Coin The past eleven years I have been immersed in news, primarily covering the criminal activity of the federal government which, naturally, leads to the criminal

Trust love and only love. If it destroys you In an unforeseen tragedy, You still win. Image source Read more at desertidaho.com Thanks!

Inukshuk stone elders, eying Arctic blue waters, on Polar permafrost planets, with More mosquitoes than stars. Roaming wild eaters, searching Frozen white deserts, above Precious rare minerals, near Swimming

Upslope wind flutters the beige-grey grasses Dancing hillside with their rising pink sun god. Squirrels shuffle 'round the rocks Maple trees whisper their leafy life song, Clouds chalk party. I watch I