Benevolent Sky

Why the sky wanted me as its muse

I cannot say

I’d not wish to betray its lifelong, headstrong whimsy?

In its own whirlwind of Days, I was its only constant?

Pressure, and I the soft voice that reduced the storm of it all?

Mercy, it contained and it wanted to rain upon me?

Surely it cannot be a great love for me. Or…can it be?

On the possibilities, I pretend to opine

But I cannot say

The Trouble

In benevolent disguise

The mighty workhorse sets out to tarry 

With trouble to cause and pain to promote 

So much static you don’t know the difference 

Between assent or enslavement

Surrender or defeat