These Hands

These hands once held the promise of youth,

The gesture of truth

    In a troubled world.

Hopeful and skyward they carried the weight,

Tempted by fate

    As the brash tempest swirled.

 

Never a challenge too large or too small,

You processed them all

     With your delicate touch.

Even when tempted to yield to the strain

You never complained

     That the load was too much.

 

Now I observe in the harsh light of day,

The forces at play

     As time takes her toll.

Freckles of age, the thinning of skin

As furrows begin

     To take permanent hold.

 

Hints of mortality creep through my soul,

Darker than coal

     Yet bright as the sun.

Teetering closer to Heaven’s clear day,

These hands cleared the way.

     The battle… won.

 

If You Don’t Know the Words, Just Hum

Just three notes was

All it took to

Put this song inside my head.

Now it’s like

A barber pole of

Alternating white and red

Turning, churning,

Never ending,

Echoing in lost refrain,

Patterned chaos,

Just enough to

Drive a simple mind insane.

 

Time was I knew all the words,

But that was oh, so long ago,

As memory plays empty

Like a violin without its bow.

 

No pity for the lonesome mime

Who slowly beats a silent drum.

In truth, if you don’t know the words,

My gentle friend…

     Just hum.

 

A New Life

Ten little fingers,

Ten tiny toes,

Sweet sighs, soft cries

And cute button nose.

A smile ear to ear

Shining bright as a rose.

A new life

Sent from Heaven above.

 

Clean slate of innocence

Ready to learn.

No sad regrets,

No bridges to burn.

A book of blank pages

To fill as they turn.

A new life

That fits like a glove.

 

Laughing or crying

You fill hearts with glee.

Plans for your future

Could flood every sea

As your village surrounds you

So passionately.

A new life…

The essence of love.

 

Enter Singing

Quiet little lotus blossom

Nestling in silent waters,

Would you disallow the world

The wonder of your rainbow smile?

The softened sigh of your sweet voice,

The Heaven fragrance that you breathe,

The pleasure of your company

If only for a little while.

 

Tapping softly at my door,

Your angel voice a welcome song.

Come share with us the lilting joy

Of all that life is meant to be.

Just one chorus, then one more,

Sweet manna to a grateful throng,

The Merlin magic you employ

To set a wistful spirit free.

 

Bright lights fill to every corner

Casting shadows wide and long,

And happiness surrounds you when

You enter singing love’s sweet song.

 

Nostalgia

Sweet whipped cream memories, Ghosts from the past

Sleep soft on my shoulder, a whisper away,

Come calling, revisiting simpler moments of

Moon Pies and Mary Janes back in the day.

 

Skate keys and Bobbie socks,

Pigtails and poodle skirts,

Pin curls and Bobbie pins,

Raggedy Ann.

Bosco and Mickey Mouse,

Jukebox and saddle shoes,

Flying with Pater Pan through Neverland.

 

Baseball cards slapping on bicycle spokes,

Eight tracks and Betamax, bad knock-knock jokes.

Viewmasters, Lincoln logs, erector sets,

Lone Ranger’s sidekick… As good as it gets.

 

Old wringer washers and rotary phones,

Listening on party lines, waiting your turn.

Lost on the day that the music fell silent.

Peace symbols, love beads and incense to burn.

 

Dark drive-in movies and black high-top sneakers,

Jiffy pop, rabbit ears, spats and D As.

Pick-up-sticks, Polaroids, tears for Old Yeller,

Time capsule mem’ries tucked safely away.

 

Opening Night

Places! Places!

Dim the lights!

Tempo. Timing.

Make it right.

Attack the stage.

Forget the fright.

Finally it’s

Opening night.

 

Grueling weeks of

Late night trends,

Burning candles

At both ends.

Do it over

And again

Until we get it all

Just right.

 

Love the crowd.

Forget the crowd.

Stand up proud

And shout out loud.

Overture,

Curtain, lights.

Bring the house down

Opening night.

 

Awake at a Wake

(A Conversation)

 

“He was…”

         “I know.”

“I’ll miss him.”

           “Me, too.”

“Remember…?”

         “So well.”

“Such kindness…”

         “It’s true.”

“And laughter…”

         “That too.”

“He so loved to laugh…”

         “To sing.”

                  “And dance.”

“To toss back a few.”

 

“Up for a challenge…”

         “Taking a chance.”

“One of the bravest I ever knew.”

“He’d want us to celebrate.”

         “Raise up a glass.”

“Have one for him.”

         “At least one.”

                  “Maybe two.”

 

“He looks really good in that suit.”

         “Yes. It’s new.”

 

Simple Pleasures

Full moon enters my bedroom

This morning.

I watch it descend to the

Western horizon,

Inching its way over

High-arching rooftops,

Winging through feathers of

Billowy clouds.

 

I see it winking,

Watching and wondering,

Guarding the night

As it silently sails through

The harbors of heaven

Casting pale shadows,

Keeping a promise to

Always return.

 

Night bird announces

A new day is dawning,

And sunrise grows miracles

Fresh in her garden.

The world is alive

With peaceful endeavor

And life’s simple pleasures

Abide everywhere.

 

Growing Old

“You’re not growing old,” she said.

“You’re simply growing beautiful.”

I smiled and hugged her with my heart

And placed a kiss upon her cheek.

To be so young – so innocent –

And yet so wise beyond her years,

My eyes stay tears

As memories flow

To fill my simple mind with joy.

 

Fleeting summers come and go

So quickly in a moon-kissed sky

As subtle scents of lavender

Give yearning pause to sunset’s glow.

The mirror grieves a faded past

Of tears and laughter –

Understood.

If only I could keep those precious

Diamonds through eternity.

 

Be still, my sweet.

Be brave.

Be bold to

Relish the joy of growing old.

 

Ice Cream and Cake, Candles and Clowns

Come to my party, please,

         Help celebrate.

The invite will tell you

         The time and the date.

You won’t want to miss this.

         It’s gonna be great,

Guaranteed to erase all your frowns.

 

It’s prizes and favors

         And candy, all flavors,

With singing so loud it

         Disturbs all the neighbors.

Where fun lasts forever

         And everyone savors

The ice cream and cake,

         Candles and clowns.

 

And after the ice cream

         And cake are consumed,

The candles blown out,

         The clown danced ‘round the room,

The bloom of excitement will

         Fill every pore,

And a wrinkle of memory

         Lives evermore.

 

Let’s Get Together

Enough is enough

     -Is enough –

Is too much.

Patience and common sense

Running amuck.

Lit up in firefight,

Caught in the crush

By her saber –

     Cut to the bone.

 

Sudden explosion

     Trembles the ground

Mocking the silence –

     World upside down til

Cymbals crescendo

     And I look around

          To find myself

Lost and alone.

 

One might imagine

     A world without hate

Where patience evolves

     And all celebrate

Diversity’s beauty.

 

It’s not too late.

Let’s get together.

     Let’s get it done.

 

Champions

Champions come in all shapes and sizes,

Every color the rainbow imagines,

Reaching for stars in a far distant galaxy,

Braced and prepared for the battles ahead.

 

Rising from underdog,

Capturing moments of untold adventure

With banners unfurled.

Aware of the fanfare but unfazed by fame

From a frilled flock of followers

Riding the wave.

 

Pulling on bootstraps,

Constantly focused,

Flaunting due diligence,

Always prepared.

Riding the wind on the winged steed of glory,

Humble in victory,

Grateful to win.

 

The Winds of Change

Seasons come,

     Seasons leave,

Rides the cresting winds of change,

Carries proud her sweet bouquet,

Feasts on a chameleon moon.

 

She speaks with fervor,

     Flaunting favor,

 Dives and drives the heart to fever

Til the rushed and flushed

Believe her maddening crush of platitudes.

Banking off her promised boon,

The soft caress of her sweet tune,

The mesmerizing mantra swoons

A ripening of attitudes.

 

But time keeps marching,

     Never still.

Seasons shift and rearrange,

And Mother Earth, her architect,

Breathes life into the winds of change.

 

American Made

Hong Kong, Taiwan,

India, Japan,

Sri Lanka, Bangladesh,

Paris, Pakistan.

Leaps and bounds the trend resounds,

Increases every day.

Wondering why products don’t say

Made in U S A.

 

Bedfellows in politics or

Just good business sense.

Doesn’t seem to be a way to

Build a strong defense.

Shouldn’t be this difficult to

Find a place to trade

Where the label proudly indicates

“American made.”

 

Sure, it’s cheaper,

That’s no sleeper.

Can’t compete with that.

But the secret, hidden deep,

Comes slinking like a cat.

Tucked inside the silent storm

A deeper price is paid.

Shelter dwells inside these words –

American made.

 

Don’t Be Afraid

The winds of chance fly swift beyond the clouds

To carry seeds of challenges ahead,

Til buried deep in furrows plainly plowed

They languish in uncertainty and dread.

And every whisper falling on their ear

Lends warning of the dangers yet to come.

Foreboding foils of feckless, freakish fears

Are birth to caution, leaving reason numb.

As aimless arrows all around ascend,

Like willow branches bending without harm,

Fair truth becomes a melancholy friend

To battle with the liars of alarm

Epiphany – at last fair ransom paid –

Speaks softly in my ear, “Don’t be afraid.”

 

Making the Grade

Year after year of brain-stretching agony

Bending the limits of tempered endurance,

Tables and intos and plus-minus posers

Til X becomes Y becomes, magically, Z.

 

Long-winded tales filled with dates and dead people

Wasted on battlefields far, far away.

Stories of Camelot, Sherwood and Hannibal

Camped beneath bed sheets with flashlight in tow.

 

Cries of rebellion for useless assignments

Fall on deaf ears, go completely unheard.

Oft being quoted, “Oh, you’ll thank me later.”

Though never quite clear when this “later” occurs.

 

Days wrought with dread of those sheets lined with questions,

Problems and essays and multiple choices.

Waiting for marks through unbearable agony,

Never quite sure…

Never quite sure…

 

Time marches sideways through twelve years of prison,

Forced into labor til all due is paid.

Finally, time boldly steps to the future,

Silent and thankful for making the grade.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.