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The Hole

The hole is a home.
Not the whole hole, but part.
The hole is home to
Well, it’s not a rat
Or a vole
Or a mole
Though it has soul.
Not the rat, vole or mole, but the hole.
The whole hole, not part.
It also has a heart.
The hole (and vole, mole and rat)
The hole that is the home
Part of the whole hole
With soul
The heart is where the home is.
The rat, vole and mole have soul too
And the owl, by the way,
Whose whole home hole with heart and soul it is!

(A darkened room is calling, methinks!)

Ground Control

The stars were barely visible from the Classified Space Station due to the light from the Sun appearing over the curve of the Earth.

“That is not the Sun.” the friendly on-board computer corrected.

“What is it?” I typed.

“Ground Control terraforming.” Computer replied. “The Sun is currently behind you.”

The Glade

Clear blue skies and warm Summer Sun
An oasis of mid-Winter
A tranquil paradise of harmony and light
Surrounded and hidden by time’s forest
And accessible from within


Energy from within
Dances and swirls about
Highlighted by the colour

Imagine What I See

I see a ladder
In the clouds reaching up
Reaching high
Step by step
I see a view
Far and wide far and wide
All around
Clear as day
I see a dream
Being made coming true
Somewhere near
Maybe two

And I know that my head isn’t in the clouds.

Not all of the time!