I TRULY BELIEVE...

...and these things I truly believe.

...that the sun will arise in the morning

To caress the essence of midnight dew.

...that the trees grow much taller than I am.

...that the robin's song is always new.

...that the heavens are drenched with an artist's pallet

When evening's sun sinks low.

...that you and I are forever, and that's

All that we need to know.

...that the children are our future.

Teach them well.

Give them heart    

Show them truth.

All we are upon reaching adulthood

Are the things that we learned in our youth.

...that the yearning which comes from inside of us all

Is the passion, which shows us the way.

...that the caution which bids us  to strive to survive

Gives us pause to reflect and obey.

...that my life would be hollow without you.

...that it's meaning would soon fade away.

Facing east, we both search for the sunlight...

Side by side we await the new day.

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DARK SECRETS

Every closet is filled with secrets,

Shadowy ghosts from a distant past

Kept locked away from prying eyes

As though revelation will destroy

The pristine perception we serve up as image,

Not wishing to show our seamier side,

Not wanting the world to think too unkindly

The fact that we may have something to hide.

 

Where do secrets go when unspoken?

Why do we utter in whispers so low

That only one set of ears captures their caption?

Why speak at all if no one should know?

 

The truth of the matter...

The proof in the pudding...

The secret of secrets is

Hidden like gold.

Secrets... Dark secrets

Are only a myth,

And no one knows of them

Until they are told.

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EXPLORING

Babies are funny when they first discover

That they have toes.

Although they have no idea

What they're for;

These strange appendages

Dangling helplessly, uselessly,

Somehow remotely attached.

Must be a nipple or something to suckle,

So, first opportunity, into the mouth.

 

Naturally, time will reveal their true purpose;

The marvelous sights and adventures in store

When a child finally learns

That a foot is for walking,

And finds that first step which opens the door

To a world of excitement;

A world fully new;

A trek across time to where learning begins;

A wondrous journey

Filled with amazement,

Where exploration never ends.

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THE NEXT HILL

I wonder what's over there, Chris Columbus.

What marvelous tale of adventure could be

Holding the gold, which is there for the taking;

The unabashed thrill of discovery.

 

Treacherous oceans offer no boundary

To those who are born with inquisitive minds.

Accepting the challenge, our hero sets sail

To the ends of the universe, only to find

That there is no end, only a bend,

Or a corner to turn to the next great adventure.

By now he is hooked and can never turn back

'Til completing the quest which began his indenture.

 

Green fields may call him to peace in the valley,

The creature of age may dampen his will,

But nothing on earth will quench his desire

To take up the gauntlet;

To climb the next hill.

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THE GARDEN

Stepping out into the green of the garden

My mind is a rush of olfactory senses

Mixing and mingling here in my head

'Til the fragrance of June and July come together.

 

The lilac trees which grace her borders,

Long since shed of their luscious bloom

Which captured the evening air of April

And left the most wonderful feeling of freshness,

Now only offering gentle reminders of

Springtime's renewal, bursting with energy

Sprung from the earth as the product of sunshine

And raindrops reviving a cold winter's sleep.

 

I bend and brush aside tender young foliage

Revealing the sweetness it hides from the sunlight.

My eyes are full moons surprised to discover

Tomatoes ripening there on the vines.

Anxious to pluck, to devour it's juices, yet

Finding restraint to wait just one more day

'Til its redness is full, it's flavor complete.

I pluck a blade of grass instead.

 

Standing and stretching, I reach for the treetops,

Taking in volumes of crisp morning air.

Finding a treasure that gold cannot purchase.

A secret to share... A promise to keep.

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HANDICRAFT

We were truly amazed at

The parcel we received from mother,

Overstuffed in nature,

Though not heavy for it's bulk.

Inside, neatly rolled, not folded,

Packed with tender loving care,

The most amazing patchwork quilt,

Made with love by hands which ached

With each and every needle push and pull;

At times too much to bear.

 

Skills acquired from generations

Somewhere in the distant past

When necessity beget art and

Care was more than memory.

Handed down from mom to daughter,

Rarely placed into a book.

Hour after hour learning,

Bonding everlastingly.

Little wonder we are blessed

With such amazing gifts to keep.

When the seeds are sewn in youth,

Maturing years are sure to reap.

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FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD

I have an underlying passion for food.

Just look at my waistline;

It tells a tale

Of wicked obsession with

Oral delights tickling taste buds

To snap to attention.

Marvelous scents tease

Olfactory senses,

Begging, pleading,

Wanting for more.

Baked or broiled, fried or filleted,

Toasted or tossed to a turn,

Not to mention

I'm never left out when

They offer up seconds,

Or met a desert I didn't enjoy;

Obsessed with a fire raging out of control

Which no flood of water can possibly douse.

If this trend continues unchecked and unaltered

With no end in sight, no method employed to

Cure the beast that rages inside me,

I'm sure that I'll soon be

The size of a house.

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WHITE PAPER / BLACK INK

My blank stare reflects off

The linen white paper,

Stiffened and dulled to a

Blind state of boredom.

A texture, minute, barely detectable,

Plays on its surface,

So naked and bland,

'Til the ink from my pen

Finds it's voice and it's

Story flows on to the page

Like the rush of the tides,

Creating a tale of marvelous

Detail, splendid adventure

To share one and all.

 

Should the lily-white paper resist

The disfigurement?

Would it fair better to

Keep itself pure?

Life is a story which

Cannot be told until

Black ink and white paper

Learn to endure.

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THE BEACHES OF CAPE COD

We strolled hand in hand

Over creamy white sand

Which captured our footprints

So briefly in time, 'til the tides

And the whitecaps erased

Every trace of our lingering gaze

Into endless expanse.

 

Hillside bedecked by a

Towering lighthouse, a

Monument offering course and direction,

Left to remind of the days

Of our glory;

Seafaring heroes who praised her reflection.

 

Stiff breezes piercing the October morning,

Riding the waves rolling in from the east.

The surf is alive with the voice of a lion,

Rising to crash like the jaws of a beast.

Yet, somehow serene,

Alive, Enduring,

Knowingly constant,

Meant to survive.

Never a worry on

These sandy beaches;

Joyous to celebrate

Being alive.

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FULL MOON MADNESS

Once again, the cycle is full.

The crescent has grown from

It's Cheshire cat grin

To a floodlight of madness

Filling the sky

With it's lunar reflection,

Blocking a billion

Stars from my vision,

Beckoning lunacy,

Calling the moonstruck

To walk in it's shadows,

To stumble about

Without clear direction,

Weeping and wailing

Without knowing why.

 

Werewolves and vampires,

The stars of tradition,

Reduce to a bit part

When Luna grows bright.

No one, it seems,

Can corner the market

When full moon madness

Captures the night.

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...COMES IN THREES

Good news...

Bad news...

Comes in threes.

Isn't it the way?

Life is fine when good news rolls in;

One after two after three

'Til euphoria sets its sights

On a dizzied brain...

Sunshine so dazzling it

blocks out the rain,

Even forgetting how mortal we are,

How end comes

To even the gayest refrain.

 

So sad when tragedy strikes at the heart,

When it compounds event on event

On event 'til the tray is

Too heavy to carry the burden and

Balance is lost

As you crash to your knees.

Praying for miracles to lift

Your spirit. To set

Your ship on an even keel.

Life is a seesaw;

A balancing act.

Good news... Bad news... Comes in threes.

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KISS

The lips of my love are

The gateway to passion.

Ever so lightly they

Touch my soul

With a loving caress which can

Only be felt by

A kindred spirit

Who's arms enfold

And touch much deeper than

Mere flesh can know,

Finding a treasure

More precious than gold.

 

Sweetly the lips of my lover

Invite every passion

Inside me to rush to the fore.

Gently they touch,

Softly they urge as

Passion arises from every pore.

Kissing away every care we have known,

Leaving us spent,

But longing for more.

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I'LL SMACK YOUR FACE

You, looking at me with that

Self-righteous grin,

Eyes leering in undertones,

Sure of a win.

Head tilted, nose upturned in the air.

Lips seething attitude

Offering to dare.

Arms crossed, knuckles white,

Shoulders rigid, poised and straight;

Feet planted firmly,

No shifting of weight.

So self-assured...

So confident...

Full of venom...

Logic spent.

So high above all forgiveness and grace;

So much in need of a smack in the face.

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IN GOD'S NAME, AMEN

...Amazing what we humans do

And blame it on religion;

The way we take the word of God

And stretch it to our purpose,

Bending every syllable, each paragraph

And page to make the

Truth unrecognizable,

To rationalize our goals.

 

Just see how faith keeps changing

To suit the current times;

Sad reflection of our mores,

And not a guiding light.

Nations grow intolerant,

Perched high on their beliefs,

And, in God's name, prepared

To make a fight.

 

The God of my religion

Is compassionate and kind,

Tolerant and giving to the end.

And when I offer up a prayer

No enemies are mentioned;

Only thanks for what is given...

In God's name, Amen.

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HONESTLY

Honestly!

You'd think they'd never seen

A naked picture before.

Honestly!

Such prudish inhibitions

Make me wonder if they live

On this planet drenched in worldliness,

Seething in its seamy side,

Mass proliferation of the airways

And the media.

 

How could it be missed?

How could they be so blind?

How can they fail to deal with

The blitz of heart and mind?

Honestly!

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WORK ETHICS

Many a lesson I learned from my father...

Like when to be strong;

When it's proper to cry

For a man grown mature in his

Nurturing ways;

How to put dignity into our days

Which are labeled and numbered

'Til fate plays it's hand;

How to put back what we

Take from the land.

But by far the greatest lesson of all,

Taught by my father's example to me,

Was that work is a privilege,

Not a labor,

Nothing in life is for free.

Those who are hired by those willing to pay

Have a contract, a promise to fill,

And no one should need to look over your shoulder

To make sure you're paying the bill.

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FOR WHAT WILL YOU FIGHT?

This is my home; this small strip of Earth.

This is my property stretching from here

Down that pathway to there round and back

To this spot. It may not seem much, but

It's all that I've got of this planet

Where humans divide territory

And mark it with deeds filed away

In some vault.

 

This is my family. These are my friends.

These are the people held dear in my heart.

These are the lessons I've learned from

Acquaintances, shared expectations of

Being a part of the larger equation

Whose total is strong.

They are my people.  Here I belong.

 

This is my truth; my heart-felt belief,

Drawn from experience of all I have known.

Truth ever-changing, maturing with time,

Always growing, but never full-grown.

Dare we conflict with the truth of another

Whose pathway is just as sure

His truth is right?

Are we combatant?

Do we retreat?

Be honest.   For what will you fight?

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OLDER AND WISER

Growing older is not so difficult...

Not so different from youthful exuberance.

Steps may be slower...

Stairs may be higher...

Nights may be shorter...

Muscles may ache where

You never knew you had muscles before.

Physical tasks may be more of a chore.

 

But one learns to compensate,

Brain over brawn.

Pain is a teacher you both

Love and hate,

And patience becomes a constant companion

Who compensates freely

Those willing to wait.

 

Like the willow who bends,

Growing tall by the waters,

Biding the years, taking all in it's stride;

Older and wiser,

Weathering winter,

Seeking tomorrow

With arms open wide.

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SUFFER THE CHILDREN

I stood in line at the grocery counter

Where mother and child were just ahead.

This small supple mass of flesh and lung

Which moments before was announcing his ire

For the whole world to notice that

Something was wrong,

Some great injustice was being done

To his discontent, so he pierced the air

With nerve wrenching wails,

Which his mother apparently could not hear,

Or did she ignore?

Could she be the only one in the store who...

Of course not. How silly.

She's just on to his game.

Patience has conquered, at least for the moment.

 

And now he sits... Suddenly shy...

Tilting his brow... Avoiding my eye.

What is he thinking? If thought is a pattern.

What is he learning from this days event?

 

I wink as his view shyly shifts my direction.

He lowers his eyelids, confused for a while.

He glances at mother, and then back to me...

One more wink, and I capture a smile.

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GRAND OBSESSION

North star... Polaris... Guiding light;

Rudder and wheel... The wind in my sail;

Holding my ship on a steady course...

Never to deviate...

Never failing to be there

Beside me when others forsake;

Always giving much more than you take

In this dream we term life;

This magnificent dream,

Gliding serene

Leaving joy in its wake.

Is there any wonder I need you so?

Is it any surprise that we've lasted this long?

Is it grand obsession that holds us together,

Or simply the comfort in love grown strong.

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PASSIONS

Rising, as mist from a white frozen lake,

As a scorching Sun sears its soft supple flesh.

New Spring morning awakening senses,

Calling, beckoning, pleading its' case.

Crisp and clearing by mid-day and yet

Lingering quietly, memory pacing,

Recalling the freshness, the dewdrops on daffodils

Dancing as daylight escapes from its' hold.

 

Fingers tap softly on silky smooth shoulders,

Patiently waiting for hopeful reaction.

Pictures encapsuled in memory mindful of

Each minute detail I find in your face.

Tasking this creature who dwells here inside of me.

Dare to confront what I know cannot be.

Lord, give me strength to be perfect in battle.

Passions run hot until flesh is stone cold.

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Last Love

You were not my first love

But, if fate is kind,

You will be my last.

Let us then grow old together

Counting seasons wrapped

Inside each other's arms

Listening to the music that

We know so well.

Hold hands and strolling

Along beaches in our autumn sun,

Watching as the seagulls work

Their magic with the wind

And wondering what secrets

Lie beneath the sands along the shore.

We are two,

Yet we are one.

Bound in spirit, heart and soul.

Heaven smiles on earth below

To bring together our last love.

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Wishing on the Stars

I stand in the splendid darkness,

Head tilted back until vertigo threatens

My balance,

Counting the stars in an endless sky

Till I finally realize I can't

Count that high.

Standing in awe under heavens great canopy,

Gazing in wonder at pin points of light

That visit my eyes after eons of travel

Offering universal delight.

Stars give up wishes much like Aladdin's

Genie, grateful at last to be free.

I have but one wish to make of the heavens,

A wish that will bring your sweet love

Home to me.

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The Fires of Beltane

The flames reach out in spite of the

Torrents of rain falling down from

The evening skies,

And you welcome me to your endless night

Filled with passionate pleasure

Beyond the moonrise.

Nothing can stop the fate that befalls

The lovers embracing

In ritual rites,

Gasping and grasping the smoke from

Her fires, engulfed in the flood of

Her pagan delights.

Gods and goddesses watch from their

Mountaintops neatly positioned between earth and sky.

Judging our worth from the weight 

Of our sacrifice.  Sealing our fate

In the blink of an eye.

We are the pawns.

We front the battle.

Never look back.

Never ask why.

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Bested by the Best

Watch out girls!

He's on the prowl.

Looking for a little action,

A taste of carnal satisfaction

Somewhere in the endless night.

 

Searching without conscience

For his prey to take the bait.

He hasn't long to wait

To sate his animal delight.

 

Bad decisions are a fever

To which there often is no cure.

Desperation sometimes leads to pain

That one need not endure.

 

And you know all too well the kind of

Hell his lust can put you through.

You'll need to be strong to slip the wrong

That he has planned for you.

 

You can rise above, hold out for love

That truly stands the test.

You'll avoid the wreck of being

Bested by the best.

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The Air That You Breathe

Sometimes I lie awake at night

Sensing no other presence than

The breathing in and breathing out

Of my true love lying next to me.

 

You have no idea that I'm waiting,

Listening to your life flow

In the gentle rise and fall

That touches my heart so tenderly.

 

The facts have a way of giving a little

Piece of themselves to every lost and

Wandering soul encountered as

Their patterns interweave.

 

And I am truly blessed to be

The one whose lips you kiss goodnight,

To hold you close, to touch your face

To share the air you breathe.

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Pagan Lovers

Like the acts of pagan lovers,

Unabashed and unashamed,

Unable to stop our passion,

Unafraid to let it grow.

 

Delving into ancient custom

Where decorum has no name,

Naked to a prudish world,

Never caring who might know.

 

Dare I taste the fruit forbidden?

Shall I thirst to drink your wine?

Will you fill me up completely?

Beg my cup to overflow?

 

Without doubt and without reason

I accept your pagan love,

Giving up my mortal soul in tribute

For I love you so.

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