Ponies:

she asked

Santa

for a pony

because

she thought

little girls

were

supposed to

Christmas

morning

came

the pony

came

she could

hardly

contain

herself

she was

so happy

she probably

could have

cried

sure

she asked

Santa

for a pony

but she

didn't really

expect

a pony

she didn't

have

any pony

food

or bedding

or a shovel

to shovel

pony poop

with

she didn't

have

a barn

to put

a pony

in

or a brush

to brush

the pony's

fur

'don't

get me

wrong'

she told

Santa

in her

new

letter

'I really

wanted

the pony

and I really

liked

the pony

but

I was

wondering

could you

maybe

take it back

because

even though

I wanted

a pony

I don't really

need

a pony

and I certainly

don't know

what to do

with a pony

now

that I've got

one'

but

Santa

can't take

presents

back

it's not

part of

his magic

he can give

and give

and give

and give

but Santa

can't

ungive

a gift

Time:

time drifts by like a gentle summer's breeze whispering to everybody that everything is changing meandering down the streets across the fields and through the woods twisting and rolling and quietly humming to itself its song goes something like this: 'I am your one true enemy and I am your only friend only I will forgive your debts only I will kill you I am the only one who will ever, really, love you' yet, time is doomed to wander the earth all alone and as each summer fades he brings the chill of another fall and as everything changes he is constantly reminded that he will always be the same the source of everyone's joy the cause of everyone's pain

Jack:

what happens
when Jack won't come
out of his box
his song plays
but he just wants
to sleep in
turn the crank
as hard as you want
he'll just resent it
all the more
because Jack feels bitter
and Jack feels depressed
the smile

painted on his face
the goofy little hat

glued to his head
always popping

out of his box

for your pleasure
but what do you do
when Jack
won't do jack for you 

Bridges:

let's build bridges

that go no where

solid and sound

and beautiful

selfish and cold

and empty

Orion:

silence
as the night
stands still
unmoving

a breeze
carries with it
the faint echo
of memories
and clearly
hesitant
hopes
of what may come

the darkness
forms a blanket
which offers
only a fleeting sense
of comfort
for
though soothing
it fails
to provide
a satisfaction
equal to that
which radiates
from the lights
dangled
throughout
its expanses

a momentary calm
settles across
the shifting horizon
as the sky
opens her arms
revealing
her majesty

the night
lets me pass
in peace

for Orion
is guiding me home

[Untitled]

a thrill
an escape
to higher ground
oh, the possibilities
that await
those who wait
patiently

A Taste of Angels:

this is the mood
that leads to
the creation of the
greatest of all art

it is the noble
beginning of
the most epic
tales

tradition
meets
opportunity
encouraging
exponential
growth

this is the mood
where potential
becomes tangible
and possibilities
hang in the air
to be inhaled
slowly
savored by
their taste
and their smell

luck and
confidence
are inseparable
and determination
breeds her own

if only you
could see
what I see
and taste
the possibilities

if only you
could see
that we could
reach out
and touch
the stars

this is the mood
that comes and goes
with the wind
like the northern lights
dancing across the sky

you can't count
on anything
for most of your
life
but when you
can drink the air
you know
you can do anything