A new book in the works

Happy to announce that I have begun work on a new book: "The Writer Within; My First Fifty Years as a Writer". Although it is several months from completion, I wanted to give everyone a heads up on it. This book is designed to be a primer for anyone with designs on being a writer. Not necessarily instructional, but I hope it will inspire.
At the same time I am continuing work on my next book of poems, "The Times of Our Lives" which celebrates life events that we all share. I will be posting poems for this collection here as they are completed. Hope you all enjoy.

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Charade

Who is that hiding behind the mask
Of civility?
Claiming to understand
As the flames of misfortune
Come searching, seeking.

You shall not touch my shining
White armor.
My inoculation against your wrath
Yields me immune to your foul breath of fire
Though you aspire to drive me insane.

Speak not of frailty
Nor meekness of purpose.
Waltz proud and loud
Marching out, unafraid,
Brandishing sword and shield,
Searching for dragons,
Tearing down walls
To unmask the charade.

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Another Parade

Standing quietly in a crowd
Brimming with anticipation,
Humbled by the celebration
Soon to amble into view.

Politicians press the flesh
Or wave as they go rolling by.
Part-time soldiers stepping high
To carry the red white and blue.

Suddenly the calm erupts
As sirens blast and engines roar,
Banners wave and streamers soar
While drums and bugles fill the air.

Flowered floats go sailing past with
Girls in flighty, frilly fare,
Jugglers juggle by the pair and
Happy thoughts race everywhere.

Joy is beamed across the sky.
Another parade is passing by.

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The Wedding Vow

Hopeful hearts hurry to capture the moon as
Melodies dance to a willowy tune and
Feathery clouds dare the daffodils swoon
As two become one life together.

Avid adventures audaciously dared with
Singular passions wistfully paired and
Coveted secrets become secrets shared
Through serene or calamitous weather.

Giddy with glee, just a wayfaring child
Awaiting the instant she walks down the aisle to  
Gracefully honor the moment with style.
Now is forever.
      Forever is now.

Promises made with the warmth of the sun
Enfold and enchant, blending two hearts in one.
One chapter closed, a new one begun as
True love embraces our wedding vow.

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Happy Birthday To Me

Oh great!
Just what I need,
Another reminder – Time swiftly passing –
Alas, once again to reflect on the ages
And celebrate “Me” with cards, cake and candles.
 
Well-wishers? Abundant.
Amazed that I’ve endured the quest,
Survived the test of father time.
Methuselah, beware.
Your record in jeopardy.
 
Don’t mind really.
Just another year older,
Thankful for the chance to see
The dew drops of a brand new day,
Sit quietly with the one I love
And reflect on my blessings,
Memories collected,
And to know with a certainty
That life will continue
Long after I shed this mortal shell.
 
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Are We Cold Yet?

It’s there
     In the air,
You can sense the hawk sweeping.
Soon,
     Very soon
It will wake from its sleeping
To bite and to nip
To claw and to rip
To haunt and to halt
In its bone-chilling grip.
 
Good sense says to hide,
To keep safely inside
Secure by the fireside
To weather the tide.
But fate bids me go
On my trek through the snow,
And suffer her wrath
As her glacial winds blow.
 
And the taut winter breeze
Brings the strong to their knees
As autumn surrenders
To deep winter’s freeze.
 
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All That Is Good

All that is good,
            Let it come to me softly.
I will embrace it with arms open wide,
Sharing its essence a thousand fold,
Spreading its gospel to grateful minds.

If it means harm,
           Let me face it with honor,
Searching the undertones living below
So I may mute the thundering voices
And quell the torrent that rides stormy seas.

We are but brief
          To move through the cosmos,
A wink and a blink in the footnotes of time.
No time to waste on the lost angst of demons.
Focused and fixed and anxious to find
All that is good.

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To Be Truly Thankful

In a world where so much can go wrong,
Will go wrong,
Often does,
It’s key to stop and oft reflect
On blessings dwelling ever near.

The quiet of the evening breeze
That sweeps away the sun-drenched day…

The blissful magic of “three words”
To wash away the hurt and pain…

The joyful laughter of a child,
Life unspoiled,
Song unsung…

Yielding to sweet slumbers' kiss,
A prayer to a departed sun…

Days creep by before they run
And we must heed the piper’s call.
          To be thankful…
          To be truly thankful
Is the greatest blessing of them all.

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And Well They Served

To stand on unfamiliar soil,
Stranger to the local custom,
Sent in blindness void of reason,
Purposed only to defend,
 
Cautioned not to question orders,
You are but a puzzle piece.
Higher forces guide decisions.
“You will thank us in the end.”
 
Settling into your mission,
Studying a hated foe,
Never knowing what may happen
When and if the mortars fly.
 
Stealthily behind your weapon,
Senses climbing to a peak,
Ready to defend your comrades,
Question not the reason why.
 
Grateful when the fray is over,
Though you’re weary to the bone.
A needful nation sent you there.
A thankful throng welcomes you home.

 

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Falling for Autumn

Daylight recedes and night lingers longer,
A lazy sun lowers her arc in the sky,
And summer relents on her brutal endeavors,
Yields to the softness of crisp autumn dew.
 
Earth tones of red and gold burst with a frenzy
Flooding the eye with bountiful treat.
The fresh chill of morning makes night covers snuggle
And daybreak awakens a bright orange hue.
 
Pity to those denied your sweet treasure,
Who never bear witness to your vibrant show,
Charting your change with chameleon candor,
Rushing the senses with visual bliss.
 
Signals of change as a new dawn announces
The turn of the term,
The passage of time.
I pray that in Heaven there still will be seasons
So all may find favor
In sweet autumn’s kiss.
 
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All Hallows Eve

Eerily, the shroud descends,
Veiled in mists of Hallows Eve,
As spirits amble in the mist
Reaching from their netherworld
To touch, to feel the naked flesh
Of those who walk and talk and breathe,
To feel the heartbeat of their blood,
A kinship to reality.
 
Children quake as darkness draws
A demon host from murky lair,
Ghouls and witches primed to scare,
Bats and black cats everywhere.
With mask and costume to disguise
They set out on their ghostly trek.
A trick they sport in lieu of treats
Belays the caution in their eyes.
 
All is magic,
Nothing planned
On Hallows Eve
When spirits rise.

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Prom Night

Tuxedo Barons,
Belles of the ball,
Limousine luxury,
Sequins and glitter,
 
Streamers abound and
Ice sculptures drown
As young maidens flush
With their hearts all atwitter.
 
Painted eyes,
Starry skies,
Ripe for romance,
Couples sway to and fro,
Ready to dance.
 
Music streams,
Couples beam,
Passions ignite,
Memories born
On this magical night.
 
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Summers Come, Summers Go

Oh, how we ached in the chill of December
For the sultry swoon of summer’s days,
Where time is a turtle free of his shell
Floating soft on holiday.

And fragrant fields and meadows yield
A sensory boondogglement,
As air stands still upon the hill
And summer rains are heaven-sent.

Away you probing question marks.
Away you wicked doubts and fears.
How dare you bore upon my door
Now that summertime is here?

Tis only playful summer’s guests
Can enter here, can pound their chest
And dance the dance of folly’s fool
Until the sun sleeps in the west.

But even summer runs hers course
As autumn bites upon her nape,
And the turtle waits inside his shell
To taste the wine of summer’s grape.
 
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Fourteen Hundred Ninety Two

In fourteen hundred ninety two…
You know the rest.
Of course, you do.
Three ships upon uncharted seas
Unfurled their sails to venture west
Seeking passage, swift and new,
To fill the Royal treasure chest.
Intrepid souls who knew no fear
Undaunted in their magic quest.
 
Upon the helm, with watchful eye
He glides into the great unknown.
Never seeking alibi
He knows the choice is his alone.
Never asking how or why,
Not a sigh, a moan or groan.
The threat of failure ever nigh,
Enough to chill him to the bone.
 
Alas, the crow’s nest faithful cry.
His quest at last is won.
Where hope walks free and eagles fly
A brand new world is born.

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For Labors Unheralded

Heaven bless the working man,
Or woman, as the case may be,
For labors that have built a nation,
Made it strong,
Kept it free.
 
Day by day endures the trek,
Spaghettied byways
Overflowing.
Ceaseless days of repetition,
Watching with frustration growing.
 
Even while complaints may linger
As the endless hours drone,
Though his ire may peak aplenty,
He will never take it home.
 
Home to where his world makes sense,
A different kind of recompense,
Where labors wear a sweeter flavor
Sheltered by a picket fence.
 
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Dear Dad

White knights are hard to come by these days,
So often blemished or misaligned.
But shortsighted memory
Is always forgiving
And the foresight of hindsight so often is blind.
 
So I never flinched as you donned your armor
And rode out to battle with dragon or beast.
Against famine and foe you defended our castle,
Returning the bounty,
Providing the feast.
 
Relentless, tenacious, untiring in effort,
Your fortress impenetrable, or so it seems.
But I see your heart, taste your will,
Touch your feelings,
See through your eyes as you strive toward your dreams.
 
Often profane,
Ready to ire,
Firm when the situations demand,
Yet soft as a feather
And quick as a heartbeat
When favors have need of a helping hand.
 
When I needed a hero
You took the stand.
 
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Remember

On foreign fields to cast their fate,
Prepared to fight,
If needs, to die,
To keep the evil from our door
And halt the plague of tyranny.
 
No need to question or conspire.
Orders firm.
Duty clear.
Against the devil hoards they stand,
Defenders of the proud and free.
 
And fear is not a luxury,
Though danger stalks with every step,
As bravehearts stand and fight and die
To keep a trust,
To save the dream.
 
So we remember what they did.
With reverence we inscribe their names
In stone and steel
And in our hearts
So they shall never be forgotten.
 
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1776

Seeds of oppression sewn from afar
Germinate slowly when thrown in the mix,
Until growing unrest feeds the fodder of cannons.
It happened in 1776.

A king’s heavy hand sent ire through the land.
“What burden of tyranny next he inflicts.”
The voices cried out. In defiance they shouted
And echoed in 1776.

Merchants and farmers and woodsmen alike
With rifles and sabers, pitchforks and sticks
Assembled as one on Lexington Green.
A prequel to 1776.

From Bunker to Breeds
Through marshes and reeds
Until Cornwallis pleads for an end to their tricks.
Through battle scars torn
A nation is born.
It started in 1776.

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Mother

She was
     And is
My most treasured memory,
Instilling all that is decent and good.
Gentle hands
     Gentle soul.
Gliding through life on gossamer wings.
 
Wise in her measure, she
Spoke without judgment,
Softly, quietly, never in anger,
Unless in defense of those she called
Family,
In which case she fought
With the heart of a lion.
 
Always near
     In spite of the distance,
Always dear
     To those she adored,
Playfully childlike
     Without being childish,
Quick with a smile
     Or a soft-spoken word.
 
Mothers are jewels,
Honored and precious.
Keep them forever.
You only get one.
 
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Survival

Please, Lord, leave this house untroubled,
We who serve you humbly plead.
Knowing well your faithful promise
We shall follow where you lead.

Heralds rise to sound the trumpet,
Blast a warning all must heed.
Close the door and
Light the candle.
Hearts in faith need never bleed.

Safe within this sanctuary,
You are surely all we need.
Nothing to bring shame upon us,
No concessions to concede.

Faith denies all pessimism.
Hope springs forward from her seed.
Onward with determination,
One day soon we shall be freed.

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Easter Sunrise

Sunday sunrise
Always a blessing,
Marvelous message
Of Faith’s revelation.
Harboring hope
As the dawn breaks horizon,
Sowing the seeds
Of a new world creation.

Hearken the herald,
The spirit has risen.
Rise in revival,
His praises to sing.
Pray for the pilgrims
Who seek without finding
The calm and the comfort
Redemption can bring.

Eyes to envision,
Lips to give praise.
Sunrise to sunset
Now and always.

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Valentine Lament

My love is pure,
My love is here,
My love is never far away.
She makes me laugh,
She makes me weep,
She turns my nighttime into day.
 
If I am cold
She gives me warmth.
If I am lost, she knows the way.
If I forget
She will recall,
She brings me back from yesterday.
 
She is my now
And my tomorrow,
To love, respect
And, yes, obey.
And when, at last, this life is o’er
We’ll meet in Heaven,
This I pray.
 

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HAVE YOU SEEN MY BLOG?

Everyone is invited to view my blog. I have been posting since 2005. Please, browse, enjoy and leave your comments (good or bad).

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Another Saint in Kelly Green

Across the spectrum and beyond
There flows a sea of Kelly green
As celebration dances
To a jig for chasing cares away.
The laughing Pub,
The village square,
The shamrock flourish on parade,
And everyone is Irish
If only for a single day.
 
And saints preserve,
As saints may do,
The mystery of miracles,
The goodliness of Godliness,
Of daring deeds empirical.
And may an Irish blessing
Raise a torch on high
To light the way.
A lesson earned,
A lesson learned
On this, Saint Patrick’s day.
 
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All the Presidents, When

To carry the weight of a outspoken nation,
To fearlessly lead with the wisdom of Solomon,
Exalting compassion with gratitude
While viewing the masses
With forthright equality.
Neither extol nor decry their guile.
 
Champion to everyone,
Revered and reviled.
Servant to all,
Servile to none.
Walking the tightrope of gathered opinion
While plotting the course
Of Sweet Liberty’s cause.
 
And we who are witness
Will always remember,
Praise them or carp them,
But give them their due.
And whether the world be friend or foe
Let all be recorded in history’s vault.
 
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The Fools Of April

Oh, you jokester,
Prankster, Fool,
Fearless in
Your pratfall follies.
Do you dare to
Break the rules with
Any tools at your command?

Obvious that you enjoy
The many tactics you employ
With faceless, feckless fortitude,
The masquerade of your decoy.

Never mind the price you pay
Or who your folly may annoy.
As long as you indulge your joy
And swiftly make your getaway.

Expert to economy,
Vanquisher of gloom and doom,
Forlorn frowns are vanquished 
When the fools of April fill the room.

Springtime

Finally, respite form
Bone chills and teeth rattles,
Mittens and snow battles,
Shovels and scrapes.
No longer bundled in
Parka and woolen cap,
Breaking the frigid snap.
Blessed escape.

Nature erupts
In its vibrant illusion,
Precious profusion
Of color and scale.
Crocus and john-o-quill,
Tulips and daffodil,
Lilacs upon the hill,
Senses assailed.

Morning awakens as
Sweet dewdrops glisten
And new lovers listen
For robins to sing.
Time holds no meaning
And space knows no reason
For earth wears no season
More lovely than spring.