Michael's Fáilte

Welcome to these writing warmups, blatherings, rantings, meditations, perorations, salutations, latest and those on time, those narrative, declarative, interrogative, gollywogative and other outdated, belated, simulated musings, perusings, shavings and other close calls, with no disrespect intended, that's why no real names included whenever impossible to avoid the guilt that came in the crib for uttering something that would hurt or injure those in authority, being of everlasting servitude to all and sundry, having chosen the road not taken and the frost on the pumpkin long before the kettle turned black or the cat found its own tail fascinating,
Your humble servant, etc.

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea
Lava Meets Ocean. Lynx, Starboard Side. Day 2.Early Morning, July 8 2006, Looking for Flashes off Chain of Craters, Big Island

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Paradise in Fourteen Lines

over the sea and far away

the seven sailing stars above

clouds encircle islands like a lei

and the whales still talk of love

some travelers stay awhile and leave

while some people find a home at last

some give back more than they receive

some say they used to move too fast

paradoxically this land called paradise

looks deceptively slow and easy at first

but life’s on the edge and a word to the wise

before your endless vacation bubbles burst

never turn your back on the ocean

and watch out for the goddess of lava in motion

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