The lawn is mowed,
the yard sort of cleared,
but the apples fall out fast
making this job a bear,
as I work along.

Day heats up fast
rising back above ninety again
but slight bit cooler forecast tomorrow,
just a smidge less humidity
so no rain threat.

Spent the weekend camping
up between distant mountain ranges,
along the shores of a lake
that dazzled eyes with blues
so rich and deep.

Back in town again,
it's the old grind still.
Clicking out story parts with hopes
that they sell for cash
or a job arrives.

I have hopes, still.
Dreams abound all around me,
as my tales and poems speak
from this lonesome, lost soul
to any reading this.

Words are my life-jacket,
here in Life's rough seas.
Holding my head above the waves
of bad feelings swirling around,
a maelstrom consuming me.

I share the words
not to ask for pity,
but to offer hope to others
also down on their luck,
that sometimes patience rewards.

Take heart, fellow travelers,
there is a port ahead,
where we can take short leaves
to refresh our weary souls,
it's called a book.

I actually in one,
in case you missed it.
Over there on the sidebar panel
there lies a new link
of to Amazon land.

Do me a solid.
Buy a copy sometime soon.
Not just for me, you see,
but the other writers contributing
with tales of fantasies.

And when it arrives,
dive between real paper pages,
into realms diverse, to escape burdens
that wear you down slowly,
and emerge with hope
that if others
can weave
tales,
perhaps
so can you.

2September2014