Sunflower Poetry

“I’ve always been crazy, but it’s kept me from going insane.”  Waylon Jennings

Are you sure they did it this way?

Those ones who ‘made it’ big?

Did they blaze a bold trail?

Are you sure they did it this way?

The ones who shine in lights?

Rule writers or rule breakers?

Waylon knew, singing and playing.

He knew that even Hank busted it.

The rules, the frames shattered.

Make that steel guitar scream.

Make those dreams jet high.

Get on board or outta the way!

Crazy like Waylon, like Hank.

Crazy like Patsy and Allison.

Crazy dreamers living loud.

Band watching backsides.

Man in black crazy in Jackson.

Wild ones, howling at the moon.

Being crazy like them isn’t bad.

Being crazy like me works too.

If you need to keep sane, that is.

For the With Real Toads, a challenge from Friday.  Better late than never!

This is attempt two, the first one was gobbled up by WordPress.  I hope I can recapture it.

Dark paths wander through a boreal forest.

Soft feathered wings float past.

Owls and ravens hunting.

Dark paths wander past swamp and rock.

Padded paws leave little trail behind.

Wolves, bears and foxes roam.

Dark paths wander down rich corrodors

Trees lean down, meadows open wide.

Hooved animals browse in dusk.

Dark paths wander through our dreams.

Haunting us with dark forest tales.

Nightwinged dreams of legend.

Dark paths wander through war and peace.

Stone and tree scarred, bloodied.

Bones sink into mossy soil.

Dark paths wander the paths of memory.

Long before people lived on the edges.

Life grew in the darkness here.

Dark paths wander our dreams, haunting.

Only the brave come here, the strong.

Are you of the forest folk too?

For Hannah’s Friday Challenge at With Real Toads.