Riding in the backseat
Waiting for a song to play
Follow the sun in the blue sky
Down the road on a summer day

It was 75 I was so alive
My world was an open door
Now ain’t it a shame I’m not the same
As the girl I was before

Driving in the front seat
Got both hands on the wheel
Burning thru this ride so fast
I’ve forgotten how to feel

Then that song plays on the radio
And the world just fades away
Those memories sweep over me
Like sunlight on a summer day

​Like 75 I’m still alive
And the world is my dance floor
Ain’t no shame I’m just the same
Girl in my heart like I was before
TL Boehm
4/22/22

I know it ain't easy
Walking this straight and narrow
When the worries of the world
Cut to the marrow
Always dodging slings and arrows
But what about the sparrow

It never feels like winning
When life just won't play fair
But when there's nothing left to lose 
He is with you there 
In the place you call empty 
He fills it up, He's everywhere

Like the sparrow
You will fly 
I know your heart is heavy
But look up to the blue sky 
Let His love lift you 
Like the sparrow
You will fly 
05/21/21

amongst the detritus and cerebral flatulence that permeates my collection of words - I write a God poem now and then. I'm no psalmist. But sometimes....this broken soul remembers flight.
​

Summer surf
Laps the sand
Hungry tongued
Froth
She frollicks
Windswept and wild
In that rarified space
Between Heaven and earth
Gulls flurry
Skybound
In the wake of children laughing
Wet hands outstretched
Against the spray
Nescient to the undertow
Cold chaos beneath the surface
The riptide deep
Legs splayed in the warm shore
They squeal
As sandcastle kingdoms
Razed by waves
Meet a watery end
Swimmers splash in liquid cadence
The ebb and flow pensive
Waiting for the saffron sun
Pooling light in the western sky
Concede to a cooler moon
Surrender the reverie
Of the longest day.
TLBoehm 2018

I reside on the 3rd coast, only a couple of miles from Big Blue aka Lake Michigan. Less windswept and wild than her Superior sister - she's still a force of nature. Like so many things in my life I cannot control - I find Big Blue both beautiful and terrifying. 

Heavy horses huddled
Resolute against the cold
Stronger in the breaking
And I’m just getting old

Witching hours of morning
Death and dark are a similar chill
The sound of heavy horses
Drag the plow past my window sill

Heavy horses forward
Muscle sinew and bone
Taut before the breaking
Furrow fields overgrown

Lamenting hours of twilight
The coming end of days
Heavy horses flecked with sweat
Never turned out to graze

Heavy horses bridled
Forever yoked and bound
Like me they’ll turn the barren earth
Till we’re put in the ground
TL BOEHM

- between Grant and Newaygo MI there is a farm that has been there as far back as I can remember. In the adjacent fields I often spotted a team of draft horses pulling stumps or grazing. Sturdy, yet beautiful creatures they were, in palomino tones. Two summers ago, I noticed the fences gone and no evidence of the heavy horses. I miss them.