The Great Three Headed Clover Writing Pages
Sarah haiku

Bats swing connecting to leather,
high fowl ball.
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Mountains--layered indigo, purple,,
Hazy against the backdrop of a pale blue sky.
Trees leaning away.
Trying to escape the bad breath of a bitter wind.
Ripples skittering across the muddy water.
A lake gone mad with the whistling of the biting storm.
Forces lock and engage in a mounting battle.

Old man winter is trying to beat back Gentle spring.
Syrup Dreams

Somewhere inside my head,
Or deep within my heart,
You were a dream I had one fine morning.
When dreams slide syrup-like down my sleep,
All sluggish and slow.
Then they are absorbed into the wrinkles of my pancake cerebrum.

Still there, a dream, all thick and heavy cream.
Stacked high, easy to climb upon,
No ladder is needed to subdue the mountain of thoughts.
Just quick reflexes and a spring in my step,
Help me reach into an easy sleep.
I found you in the middle of a syrup, sweet dream.
Still Searching for the Three Headed Sarah lost here on earth.  Last seen in the company of someone called
Terry, who also lives under the cover of a pseudonym.
Search is Stepping up
Spring!
Days lay soft upon the land,
While poets' souls grow in the sun and expand.
Days begin with the rising sun and the chatter of the birds.
The same day ends with a glowing sky,
And tender written words
.
Searching for those things and people that make life more interesting and fun.
Crater Lake, Oregon
Virtual Tour
Haiku

Let us pay homage
to the great god, credit line
Bow and kiss the gold card.
"Oh to be in England, now that spring is there."
WANTED

Information concerning ThreeHeaded Sarahs.  Last seen in England.  Anyone knowing the whereabouts of this beautiful bird, or her captors, send a message. Or sign the guest register with the information.
Are you our Mummy?
Hatched in the summer of 2001 from an egg left by the Sarahs in the Antarctica
NEW ORDER

Bob Segars is "Running against the wind,"
Clouds piling around and against the mountain tops,
Windshield wipers keeping time to the "Rhythm of My Heart."
I drive.
Past the clouds, past the music, past time,
Stretch and watch it move.
It merges and joins me on the ledge;
Presses against me, toward the edge,
Reluctantly I recede.

Others standing nearby--in no position to know--
Cast nervous, sidelong glances, afraid to breathe
As I maneuver back in tiny waves,
Using steps I remember from long-gone dances.
They see fog and mist creeping;
I see future and past civilizations stealing
Up and down the slopes.

The edges blur.
A new day Dawns.
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