Activities of Samuel Richard Leonard

I have a Garden to tend
a little flower bed
but sometimes I get tired
i'm a sleepy head
...

Brittle little leaves skate across my mind.
A timid wind faintly wins the song of someone's chimes.
Barreling through, whirring, and warring the whimsy of Winter's end,
cars flood, flash and thunder to distract from thawing land.
...

It is good of you to finally come, though in the end you'll find you were always here.
A magnificent machination multitudinous and contriving itself.
A fiction taking form ever and anon on a whim.
...

A feathered pillow softly pokes my arm
my mother begs me to come down
I shatter my sounding alarm
stop crying bitch I hope you drown.
...

Listen to the rain long after its falling sing its song of eternal melancholy. It heaves the breeze through somber leaves and dances through woes in great big billows brushing the tears off old weeping willows. This sorrow of the skies is not fear for tomorrow, nothing that's coming will cease this harrow. It's Love that mourns through forlorn chords; it's Love that scorns the withering and worn. With change comes pain, it never refrains; come what may this Love remains.
- Samuel Richard Leonard
...

Rain pools in my palms
the pavement's salted in light;
blue moon, close your eyes.
- Samuel Richard Leonard
...

I'm staring at the past
twinkling in the black
such memory— so vast!
such a trek to track—
...

Ship waves are surfing in under a sky blotched in grey sea rain along both sides of the bay. Pale water crinkles in a southern-winter wind and bubbles under the falling clouds.
I gaze across the river-bay-haze; we lap through the day's many grays, but in warmth we'll be rising and i'll be smiling all the way.
- Samuel Richard Leonard
...

I like the way smoke tangles up in vines across my face, withering to the breeze in dead elegance and curling with grace. So do you grow in my mind, an impending breath sublime as you push past my lips, but even so, and ever more are you but a thought born in heat, the fire of my desire, by the flick of your flame do I perspire — and I wonder; will I see you here when the smoke clears?
- Samuel Richard Leonard
...