poem-

It hurt to try and open it.
So, I did what I’ve always done
and went to a pub to read a book.
Only this time, I was in the book.
The bar was full so I stood in the corner
and ordered a dark beer.
The noise from the many conversations
faded, as they always do when I read,
but when I touched the book it felt electric.
“Here I am,” I thought. “About to read my own story.”
But I couldn’t do it. I opened the book to page 62.
Hell, I even took a picture.
But I couldn’t read my short story.
I couldn’t even get beyond the second line.
I’m not sure why. I don’t know what happened.
I’ll most likely read all the others and never read mine.

-M. Taggart

 

book view

Pros

Ecstasy begins one compromise at a time;
Without this ability one will never experience
true happiness, only a matrix of self-doubt
layered with hidden meanings.

-M. Taggart

Innocence

My son tells me he loves me
out of the blue, and
of his own accord and time.
He is the greatest gift.

I respect and love his
individual personality
and am blessed to be
in a position to help
protect his wellness.

Love is in the breath
of a child and in
their sleeping trust
of a truthful parent.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts #poem

I like straight forward curvatures in mud. I’m from mud, I say, when asked indifferently. I’m from mud and cow pastures and tall green ferns growing on the banks of the friendly gurgling brook with the trout hiding in the deepest pools under the roots of a hovering pine; casting a shadow is a harboring act of courage when having wellness in mind. for others. and more others.

-M. Taggart