Swept off my feet
Flying past the world
Taken by surprise,
Caught in a wild blur
Pictures and feelings
Pass by on this train
People wave,
Then say goodbye
As quickly as they came 

Taking a map,
To see where I am
I plotted out every course,
Every place, every land,
Yet I feel more lost
Then I think I’ve ever been 

I’ve left something behind
I used to hold inside
It slowly faded
From thought and mind

This letter is not intended to be taken too seriously.  Rather, it takes itself too seriously, which is what made it so amusing to write.

 - - -

An Encyclical on the Use of Lukewarm Words by A fellow Sinner in the matter of grammatical and linguistical crimes

Dear Friends,

Not strict poetry, but not an essay or fiction either....

*Okay everybody, I have decided to just go ahead and make this fiction (which it kinda is anyway) even though it's in poem form. Life will be easier this way. Hope you enjoy!*

They sell fruit in the markets, and bread.
Fish, too, and all the usual things.
But then there are some corner booths in the shade.
And they have a lot in jars,
a lot in tightly shut pouches.
A penny for this, a nickel for that... I dig in my pockets every time,
my useless change suddenly full of worth.

     "Where is he?" Andrews asked, running his hand through his gray hair.
     I shrugged. "He was just here a little while ago..."
     Andrews gray eyes were snapping. "Go find him, hurry. Tell him they've arrived."
     I blinked back in horror. "Me?! But I don't even know...."
     Mr. Andrew fixed me with one of his 'hurry and do it' looks, and I rushed off with a little sigh.

 Give me ten seconds to look into your eyes

To see if there is anything left I recognize

Have six months become meaningless?

Everything I thought I knew is suddenly worthless

I’m wearying of this fatal little dance

Because a phone can be a deadly weapon in your hands

Is there a problem with the network?

I don’t want to believe you just said that

God if there is anything good left, I would love to see it now

If you can tell me, I would like to know how

To stand by and watch her slowly kill herself

Gerhard drew in a deep breath and listened to the soft thudding of Alcander’s large feathered hooves on the heather and the chirping of the songbirds around them. He reached down and ran his hand over the horses’ smooth hide. His father’s plow horse wasn’t exactly as elegant as his prancing stallion, but the broad horse was just as trustworthy as the magnificent Thunder. They had been going steadily since just before sunup and the forest was just reaching its peak morning activities. He lifted his face to the blue sky and felt the rays of the rising sun warm his forehead.