We are grains of sand resting along the shore.
Waiting to be washed away till their is no more.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

Unveil onto me, the true message of the heart.
Fill me with it’s knowledge, so I may learn the art.
Supply me with the needed tools, to create a lasting love.
One, not even Cupid and his arrow has ever heard of.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

Shadow puppets on the wall.
Dark carbon copies of what a furnished room bares.
Into a black covered mirror, my world reflects.
Showing me things, only the night has to offer.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

Cool morning spit on bladed grass.
A thousand silky fingers tickling toes.
The strong scent of natures freshly cut hair.
Mans spiritual stomping ground toward inner peace.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

Hands of time move us forward,
never back.
Only memories frozen in mind,
can we reenact.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

This is my plea to all nations, please lay down all your weapons and guns.
Come sit at our table, lets talk, so the wars, they may be done.
Let the vehicle of democracy be our driven force.
To serve as an example to your neighbors, and dare to pass the torch.
Let it’s bright light be your guide, and it’s flame what warms your heart.
Tell me, Isn’t that how World Peace really begins, and Allies seem to start?

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

Howling winds of winters song,
blows it’s Trumpet all night long.
In comes a choir all dressed in white,to join in the magic of cool delights.
Together, they form in it’s celebration
A seasonal gig, of collaboration.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

Buried deep beneath an old oak tree,
lies a box thats been filled, with
childhood memories.
Three quarters,one ball, and a letter that
I wrote, holds the key to my mementos,
that time can’t revoke.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.

Carry me out the ocean, where
my drifting thoughts flow free.
Guide them to a far distant land, that
only the mind can see.
There I shall paint a great portrait, of
what this world should be.
A place without senseless wars, and human poverty.

I am human, layers of flesh
upon bone.
I am mortal, this breathing
temple is my home.

I am sole owner to this vessel,
and Captain of the ship.
I am commander in charge of
operations, and all of life’s trips.

I am not perfect in any capacity,
nor have I ever pledged I am.
It is said, to err is human, and
that’s what “I AM”.

Written/Submitted by Robert M. Hensel.