Wake Up Morning

Good morning, morning.
Time to get up.
I’ve been marking time all night for you.
Come alive with the shimmer of
Daybreak on dewdrops,
Bidding the moon and the stars
Fond adieu.

The robins have found you
And croon your arrival
With subtle sweet smooth serenade.
And as ebony morphs into
Crystal clear dawning
The shadows of night gently fade.

I sit with my coffee cup
Anticipating as lush aromatics bid
Senses to hurry, 
To hasten the sunrise without
Brash dramatics
That send the day reeling and
Lost in a flurry.

Warm as a summer breeze.
Soft as a pup.
Good morning, morning.
It’s time to get up.

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The Heart Never Lies

Go with your gut.
Go with your head.
Go with your heart where it leads.
Life in a rut.
Thoughts filled with dread.
Lost in a wildwood of copious trees.
Why be so needy?
Why be so greedy?
Why give a dingle at all?
No need to act
Until all of the facts have been
Spray-painted onto the wall.

Your gut is the first to speak,
Never shy, never meek.
Instinct akin to survival.
Then the head interjects
As the lines intersect
Til it becomes an archrival

But then the heart barters
For a cloudless new start seen 
Through open and welcoming eyes,
Where decisions ring true
As the color of blue
In a world where
The heart never lies.

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I Am the Eagle / The Dove

I rise above
The tallest trees.
You shall not know my name
And everything my eyes can see
I count as my domain.
No fear,
No anger,
No regrets
My stoic bearing cries.
No ruffled edge to engender tears
To stain my artic eyes.

Comes the darkness of despondence,
Comes the challenge to the fore,
Comes the portal to safe refuge
You may seek forevermore.
I will give you wings of comfort
Though my phantom soars above.
Ever watchful as your eagle,
Ever faithful as your dove.

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No More Mountains

I wish there were more mountaintops
That we could scale together.
We crossed so many peaks and valleys
In our precious time.
No obstacle could block our path,
No worries of the weather.
We dared the lightening and the winds
Collecting memories in our prime.

Though mountains turned to rolling hills
In our lounging later years,
Still we strolled them
Hand in hand
Gazing at the sunset’s fade.

When at last the path became
Too difficult for you to bear
We rested in our solitude and
Held each other unafraid.

Now you rest o higher ground
In rapture’s paradigm.
No more heartache. No more pain.
No more mountains left to climb.

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We Ain’t Spring Chickens Anymore

“Time was I could….”
Yeah, I’ve heard it all before.
Way back then when I was Superman
I’d bust through any door.
Drive my Chevrolet
Til the break of day.
Dance the band right off the floor.
But regrettably time has passed and we
Ain’t spring chickens anymore.

Times were really good back then
When gals were gals
And mem were men.
We’d chase each other round the bend
And never lose a beat.
Summer spent on crystal lakes
Swimming til our muscles ached,
We’d leave no promise in our wake,
No dragons to defeat.

Oh, how I long to harken back to
Winsome days and nights of yore,
But senescence changes everything
And…
We ain’t spring chickens anymore

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The Jokester

Punster, prankster,
Life of the party
Flitting from pillar to post
In your duty.
Ringmaster, court jester,
Orchestra leader.
No sacred cows in your
Meadows to graze.

Quick to react,
Alert to respond,
Never a case
To be haughty or snooty.
No false excuses are
Deemed necessary, like
“Oh, he’s just teasing,” or
“It’s just a phase.”

But take care, oh, fearless one.
Not every mark shares
The humor you lavishly spread.
Your feckless buffoonery
To the wrong person
Could engender issues of dread.

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Cigarettes are Disgusting

Don’t know why I ever got started.
Some misguided peer pressure
I suppose.
Blame it on Uncle Sam.
Blame it on weakness.
Blatant stupidity slurped up the nose.

Took me a few years of
Sucking on stupid sticks to
Reach the roof of
Reality’s realm.
Thankful to quit before
Throes of addiction
Shackled my will
Until overwhelmed.

You see,
I’ve lived long enough
I can make the rebuff to
Any case one might present.
I’ve seen what it does
To the ones that I love
In the final days of their lament.

One thing for certain
On that final curtain
(And in this you can place all your trust.)
Regrets will consume,
Inundating the room
And end your days filled with disgust.

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The Night Shift (Sundowning)

Everything changes at sundown.
Some trigger,
     Some toggle,
          Some shivering switch is thrown.
Up becomes down,
In turns to out,
A blood-thunder chill that goes
Straight to the bone.

Not sure the reason, but then
No one knows why
A brain-numbing chaos
Holds hands with the dark,
Or what raises fear to
A whole other level.
Escaping the jaws of
The great phantom shark.

I only can soothe and assure and
Assuage any angst
That may torment
A befuddled brow.
Pray for the morning,
For clarity’s purchase, and
The strength to get through this…
Somehow.

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Hope, Never Lost

Ah, hope.
That noble enigma whose arms
Reach up to a winsome sky,
Favored and flavored with
Peppermint sticks.
Soft as the sound of
A sweet lullaby.
“If only. If only,” she gently whispers
With feather-like tickles
That tantalize,
While tossing a penny into a fountain,
Then patiently waiting to glean
Kismet’s prize.

Where would I be
Without your silent kisses
Tactfully tempting by
Subtle design?
Oh, patron of dreamers,
Siren of seekers,
I never shall lose you.
You’ll always be mine.

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Support System

Who would’ve thought
The need would arise for
The solace of caring
In empathy’s eyes?

You know. You’ve
All been there
One time or another
In tragedy’s aftermath,
Quick to discover.

The gathering round, the
Deafening sound of
The silent travail
Where no comfort is found.

But comfort takes time
And a shoulder or two
Or three or more
Before peace might ensue.

It might be a look,
A tangible tear,
A simple. “I’m here,”
Whispered softly in ear.

And thankful should be
For this harbor, this port,
This rallying system of
Loving support.

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It’s Okay

It’s okay to let go…
Even though your heart cries out
To cling with every ounce of
Fitful courage you can muster,
“One more hour.
One more day.
One more precious memory.”
Knowing that without you
Life would surely
Lose its luster.

Through the pain
Your brow unbent,
Unfading smile
Etched on your face.
So adored, my haloed hero,
If only I could take your place.

Asking the travail be finished.
Longing, yearning not to go.
So afraid to leave behind
The precious few to pine away.
Worried for your one true love,
A ghost ship lost without a sail.
Don’t fear, my love.
We’ll meet again.
Don’t worry now.
It’s okay.

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Waiting to Go

I’m ready.
     Been ready seems like
Hours ago.
Now sitting,
     Now pacing and
Waiting to go.

If we’re late
(Which I hate)
The blame is not mine.
Rock steady,
            I’m ready
To make it on time.

I ask,
            But you task
Just a few minutes more.
So I wait
(Which I hate)
Til the sweat starts to pour.

But I must confess
That any duress disappears
When at long last you show.
Who cares if we’re late?
You were well worth the
Wait and the worry of 
Waiting to go.

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Making Memories

It didn’t seem like much at the time,
Just a simple outing on
A ho-hum day.
Winging the moment could
Scarcely cover it
With sunshine inviting us
Come out to play.

“Hey, Ho!” Coos the docile dove.
“Come share my morning song.
Fly by my side as adventures ensue.”
We seek out the old and familiar
To cheer us or
Drift chasing rainbows with
Brash derring-do.

And the treasure unearthed
Is not squandered in mirth,
Rather tucked away somewhere inside
Until we reminisce
Of the fine times we miss
And the memories we wear with pride.

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Socializing

Bands of bustling busy bees
All hovering round the honey hive,
Deposit golden nectar in
Her long and layered filigree.
Stepping over and around 
They flit and fly from one to next
Bound to networks unintended,
Unimagined to degree.

Born on instinct,
Second nature,
Thinking but an afterthought
Fraught with mindless chitter-chatter,
He said, she said, they said, we….
Bounding round to meet and mingle,
Chasing schedules round the bend.
Won’t you stay a little longer?
Have another cup of tea.

Bound by lot a social creature,
Needful of discourse and touch.
Never meant to be an island
Hiding in an endless sea.

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Quiet Music

Melodies linger as
Harmonies soothe
In the bosom of eventide’s
Gentle repose.
The fluttering violins
Butterfly softly from
Flower to flower
Tickling the ear.

Who painted this portrait of
Sweetest quiescence 
(Lost in warm remedy)
God only knows.
Coaxed as the winding stream
Flows by the willows
Softening sorrows,
Quelling all fear.

Choirs of angels breathe airily,
Blending harp strings and flute
Til the aria glows
In a world where the mind
Can only bear witness
And naught but the spirit
Can easily hear.

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Falling

Feckless fear is a wretched companion.
Fear of strangers, fear of loss,
The quivering fear of being alone.
But worlds come undone
And time relents meaning
When the canon of gravity bullies its’ reign.

Quickly,
So quickly, hard objects propel
To strike supple flesh
And break brittle bone
With a feeling more like a
Film in slow motion,
Played out in agony,
Pushed to the pain.

So unlike the youthful thrill.
The exhilaration of unfettered flight
Through billowing clouds,
Though common sense might
Speak to the mind to declare it insane.

The wisdom of age grows a
Widening respect for 
The art and the need of
Remaining upright.
For the mischief of falling
Brings dire consequence.
A poor worthless beggar
With nothing to gain.

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Breathing: It’s Not Overrated

So often taken for granted,
This grand involuntary deed,
This giving and surrendering of
Life-spring’s first and living’s last.

Little more than afterthought,
Hardly noticed,
Seldom lauded,
But oh, so very necessary
For the now,
The when,
The past.

How many of you shall I be gifted?
Tis only one who holds that key.
So, I shall savor every one
As though it were a sweet repast.

And when the play is over
And all the players are applauded,
Tis you, the star, shall rise above
And I but a player in the cast.

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If There’s Anything I Can Do

Hard times wield an angry hammer
Without conscience or discretion. 
Blind side strikes with
Steely stealth and noxious
Brutish attitude.

Havoc grabs the rein and leaves the gypsy
Lost without direction,
Traveling in a downward spiral
Into silent solitude.

Comes a voice in tainted warning,
Ominous in its inflection,
Mettle-gauging caterwauling
Bent on testing fortitude.

Subtleties and undertones
Defy all efforts of detection
Until the veil is lifted
So the truth is unsubdued.

And if by chance my being there
Can offer solace or protection,
My hand is held in offering
If there’s anything that I can do.

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Comforting Words

Pain can possess
And redouble its sorrow.
Faced with a loss too enormous for knowing,
Feet fail
As backbones can’t carry the weight,
And eyes wash the riverbanks
To overflowing.

Silence sits colorless,
Listens only to itself.
No one wants to break its spell
With sullen gush of mindless voice.

But grows a need for duologue,
A word of comfort from a friend
Framed by simple elegance,
The proper time. The perfect choice.

“I’m here.”
“Don’t fear.”
“You’re not alone.”
“We’ll make it through this dark unknown.”
“Come sit a while and reminisce of
All the good times you were blessed.”

Don’t let your thoughts in sadness dwell
As all around you wish you well.
The supple heart, in time, can mend
With words of comfort from a friend.

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The Great Unknown

A little scary, I would say,
That great ethereal unknown
Waiting, watching, unforgiving
On the shores of Brigadoon.

Never mind that life is brief
And time accelerates with age.
Loved ones leave to their reward
Always too soon. Much too soon.

And we are left to wait and wonder
When our number might be chose and
What may lie beyond horizons
Once mortality has flown.

Shall the soul ascend to find
The joys of everlasting peace
To reunite with loved-ones past,
To sit beside the highest throne?

Faith alone can move the stone,
Can shine a light where none has shone,
Assure us we are not alone
And guide us through the great unknown.

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Dinner at Five

Traditions begin in the oddest of ways,
Often defying all logic and reason.
Unlike the rotation of the seasons,
Seemingly out of our sphere of control.

Holidays circled in red on the calendar,
Parties on birthdates or
Sundays in church.
All on a schedule determined by others,
Marking of milestones as patterns unfold.

Other traditions, more privy in nature, 
But just as important and more resolute
To the nature and nurture
Of everyday struggle,
The mire and the muddle of staying alive.

Like summer vacations on lullaby beaches
Escaping the hustling, bustling hive.
Snuggling close by the fireside in winter.
Date night by moonlight,
Dinner at five.

Taken for granted, these well-worn excursions
Often unmissed until they are gone.
Looking back now and remembering fondly.
Like dinner at five,
Tradition lives on.

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Wrong Floor? Maybe Not

Elevator doors open and
Out I step into the hallway
Only to realize
Not my intended,
Not my floor.
Looking around to get better bearing
When down the corridor
Rolls my beloved.
So unexpected.
Oh, so delighted,
Whispers of joy to
My quaint sense of hearing.

Where have you come from?
Where are you going?
On second thought
Matters naught
Now you’re here.
Had I departed
When judgement imparted
This moment might never
Have happened, I fear.

Together at last.
Together for always.
Lilting with laughter or
Laden with tears.

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Friends Will Understand

Some may judge and
Think you soft when tears
Become an alibi.
They cannot know, can’t comprehend
The storms that torment deep inside,
The razor wire that pricks and bleeds
Until resolve is washed away,
Where stillness mocks to terrorize
And leaves no harborage to hide. 

But softness holds no part of shame
When hearts are ripped and
Torn to shreds,
When loss is real and
Karma steals all reason of reality.
These wells are deep and
Filled with demons
Void of hope and sweet redemption,
Praying for extended hands
Straining to bear empathy. 

Each day a struggle to survive
On limbs of rubber, feet of sand.
Strangers mock and taunt and tease, but
Friends, true friends, will understand.

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Remember the Good Times

I was looking through
Old photographs today
Through teary eyes and
Smiles and laughs and grins.
How many fools we suffered
In our time and toil.
How many lifetimes did
We live back then.
The people, pets and places
Of our precious past
Captured in a two-dimensional world
Come rushing back to fill my
Conscious memory,
Charging forth with
Battle flag unfurled.
The many who have met
Their sleep before us,
To claim affinity, so bittersweet.
But focus not the heartache
Of our parting
Or lay the grief of anguish at my feet.
Instead I will remember
All the good times,
The joy, the love so easily defined.
Then I can place my head
Upon my pillow
With gentle reminiscent
Peace of mind.

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The Caregiver

Often given forth in silence,
No benefit of thanks in offing,
Needy expectations coughing
Up one chore
And then another.
Vigilant at midnight’s hour,
Standing watch upon the tower,
Praying for ancillary power
Til the night becomes a blur.

Loving hands and loving heart
Perform each duty willingly.
Nowhere else I’d rather be
Than right here steadfast by your side.
Comforting the path you travel
Knowing it may soon unravel,
Taking you to places my
Imagination cannot bide.

Rest my dearest.
Calm your fears.
Let me be your eyes and ears.
Walk no more in twilight’s gloam.
Let me lead you safely home.

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