Eva Mae Witt

Home is where you let your hat rest
With all the sweet aroma of love's nest

With passions fulfilling and heart consuming
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T.S. Elliot is one of my favorite poet authors
He sure caught my eyes when I went to further my education

I've read so many authors of poets and written works of fiction
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As we both walk together with reverent hands
These books that I hold within my unkempt dreams,
Dearest man that holds my passions has worn
as we walk together in the dove-grey sands,
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As the night creeps upon, the air is cold
Beneath the dark as the snow filters the air in the dark
again this feeling in my bones; makes me feel really old
Please listen! Can you not hear it; a sweet song of the singing lark.
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Have you ever heard that old saying, "A tough Old Bird?
Well let me tell you, I can honestly say that suits me fine

Most people say she talks so quiet she can't be heard!
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Going out with two friends Mitch and Neal my poet friends
I find we're all alike, we never have to pretend

We share inspiration, funnies, and passion as though
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Marigolds will be just fine and dandy
could you lend a helping hand dear Randy
not long ago someone called me Sandy
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As I sit here on my weathered couch, I duly sigh
I seem to feel the loneliness of being so alone
dreaming of all the things that could have been
fills my head with daydreaming of you and I.
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Many two hearts may reminisce and embrace
the passage of their youthful days gone by
They may be immersed with feelings and hurts of the past
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So many years have passed
I knew our love wouldn't last

Those long distant affairs
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Power of Flowers

Three dancing women
wispy willows in their hair
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A scene right behind my eyes,
cascades like a rippling effect
as sure as the sun arises
sending shivers up and down
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I've traveled to many cities
and for some, they may be fine
But these days I find myself a missin'
for today I'm smellin' clover and pine
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This afternoon it's snowing and they're no flowers
The silence of the glistening white of snowflakes
Falls like a memory of scales descending as the whitest keys
in the memory of a childhood piano, outside the paned window of palms!
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Raindrops fall like a fallin'
of rain within a glistening
heartfelt of song which has
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Wind Caressing My Feet

Right now I am walking as though the wind were caressing my feet
the sands are quite soft and beautiful while I surrender to thee
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Sing me a song and I'll paint you a scene
A scene filled with love and devotion so
true, truth coming from my heart, so for you
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Late November Night

Listen to all around you
the faint sounds of night
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