The Green of Summer

The passing of unsettled skies
Makes way for more pastoral days
Where green is nature’s uniform
And sunlight clings to the horizon.

Bold the forest spreads its welcome,
Gives itself up willingly to
All who seek its gentle comfort,
Shelter from the noonday sun.

Fields and meadows roll with laughter.
Children’s voices ringing bells of
Simple joy while we sit watching
Keeping vigil as they play.

Nighttime cannot quench your colors,
Hide the flavor of your hue.
I can taste the green of summer
Though my eyes see only gray.

Oh, that you could stay forever,
Wear your magic on my sleeve, but
Seasons come and seasons go
Leaving little time to grieve.




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Yesterday's Child

All too seldom yesterday comes
Knocking on the door,
Beckoning reminders of
The way it used to be.
Playful little tidbits meant
To tease the aging process,
Far too distant to return
Except in memory.
Whimsically, they're set in place,
Mind games of deception,
Artful in the conquest of our time.
Tipped with vinegar and honey,
Complete with background music,
A sweet and sour poem set to rhyme.
In the hustle and the bustle
Of our hectic lives,
When problems of the world
Are heaped and piled,
Meditations of the past will
Ease the pain of tension,
As we search for
Yesterday's sweet child.

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Time Marches Sideways

Bated and battered by mindless meanderings,
Waiting and watchful with vigilant vision,
Passing the muster of youthful exuberance,
Pressed for a time into servitude’s locker.

Prancing and pacing and mark-time-march,
Seven mile hiking to nowhere and back.
Searching for what? For something amazing?
Waiting for my quarter-hour of fame.

“It takes time,” the ne’er-do-wells tell me.
“Must be patient,” they throw in my face.
But treading in time is like treading on water.
Must keep moving else sink to the bottom.

No one is patient. It’s just a façade.
No one make waiting a chosen profession,
Hated regression, silent confession,
Wandering into the stagnant congestion.

When will I realize I can’t be immortal?
Who keeps the watch ticking endlessly on?
Waiting for me? Waiting for no one.
Time marches sideways; never keeps still.


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Whisperings

Shhhhhhh!
We often speak in whispers
For many different reasons.
Like the undertow of ocean tides,
Or the passing of the seasons,
We seek to go unnoticed,
Though the subtlety we seek
Is a beacon drawing notice
Like the sun upon a peak.

Shhhhhhh!
There is a bit of gossip
Meant for only certain ears.
There are some thoughts when said out loud
Will amplify our fears.
There are some times when courtesy
Demands a lower voice,
And so we speak in whispers,
Not from pressure,
But by choice.

Shhhhhhh!

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Free Love

Let me just enjoy the freedom
In the joy of loving you.
Let the sun shine brightly on
Two loving hearts that beat as one.
Lift our eyes in vigilance to
Ponder not the whys and whens,
Accepting every day as though
Our lives had only just begun.

Daylight passes yet the love
Remains, continuing to grow.
Glowing brightly from within
It lights the night and shows the way.
Knowing no direction but
Expanding from horizon to
Horizon past all boundaries
With no rules to obey.

Spirits rise beyond the heights
That any mortal man may see,
And we can soar beyond the stars
Because our love is free.


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Ultimatum

You must!
I insist!
No doubt!
Your decision.

No trust.
You persist.
Don’t shout.
Grave collision.

We fussed,
Made a list,
Walked out
On a mission.

Disgust
With a twist.
Next bout,
No remission.

Ultimatum
Must abide.
Do or don’t.
Get off the ride.


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The Quarry

Deserted now...
The old granite quarry where
Boulders the size of elephants
Grazed in herds on red clay and sand.
Beached whales washed up on the shore
Of the lake-filled canyon formed unexpectedly
From an underground spring.
Crystalline water as pure as the dew drops
Affording a view of the bottomless pond.
Formidable and invitingly clear,
Cool and refreshing from summertime's heat.

Hovering battlements tall as the tree tops
Surrounding three sides with lake castle walls.
A child might imagine the parapets riding the crest
With cannon and catapult ready to fire.

The old stone quarry, deserted now.
How many stories do you have to tell?



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Whifle, Wimple, Tadpoles

Blow you mighty gusting wind.
Blow and cease. Blow and cease.
Make me wonder who created you
In geometric form.
Cutting forth to whifle this,
Whifle that, and are no more.
Rippling at waters edge
You cast your breasts upon the shore
A simple wimple foraging
Here to there for who knows what.
Ride the crest to lands downstream
To come to rest in fields afar.
You were just a tiny speck when
First you came. Little dot that grew a tail,
Began to slither ‘cross the pond.
Nosy tadpole swimming, skimming,
Growing to a mighty leaper,
Leaping high into the wind.
Landing on some distant shore.
A whifle now. A wimple then.



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Morning Awakens

Not quite dawn,
Not quite ready for
Long shadows from the morning light
Visiting in silent stillness
Just before the dawn awakens.

Gentle breeze outside an open
Window seems to call a name
In fervent whispers long ago
Nudging close to consciousness.

First beam breaks horizon,
Goes unnoticed to the naked eye
Til multitudes of searchlights
Bleach her crimson pallor into gold.

And creatures rise in worship
As the mighty dawn awakens,
Reverent in her majesty,
Blessed to greet the day.


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Let's Be Honest

With all the back biting going on
It was hard to declare a decisive winner,
Like needles and darts thrown 'cross a room,
A Friar's roast, or a Toastmaster's dinner.

Impossible to distinguish the truth
From the lies and deceits being bantered about.
One can only hope your detectors are functioning,
Sniffing the air 'til the truth finds you out.

Pity the openness lost in your youth
Can't carry its' weight as the years pass you by.
Suffer its' loss with the loss of innocence
Grown to a beast as you covet your pride.

Can you imagine a World without lies?
A World without people you'll more likely see.
Let's be honest... To ourselves and each other;
Leaping the mass of humanity.


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"Goodnight. I'll See You In The Morning"

How many nights have I slipped in beside you
After the trials of the long day are done?
Nestling in for a well-deserved respite
From all of the cares that the world has laid on.

Cold winter nights where the nip of the air
Bites the covers as you snuggle close to my side,
Hearing the heartbeat, which lulls you to sleep,
Seeking the warmth that our bodies provide.

The cool of the spring when the windows are
Finally open and we hear the sweet serenade
Of the nocturnal creatures who lulled us to sleep
And then woke us at dawn with their vocal parade.

Summertime heat can be quite overbearing,
And drives you away to the bed's other side.
A quick goodnight kiss and you scurry away
Wishing the bed was again twice as wide.

Of all the seasons I think I love autumn
The most, when all of the world heaves a sigh,
And you start to snuggle back into my arms.
I never complain… never ask why.

We end each evening with a kiss and
A solemn promise; not a warning.
Touching your cheek I softly pledge,
"Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."

From "Love and Passions"


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Posers to Ponder

Questions come silently creeping to mind,
Queries come begging refined resolution,
Posers seek answers to life's little problems,
Processing logically to a conclusion.
But storm troopers break down the door of confusion,
Blitzkrieg, Gestapo, the secret police
Collide in a mind filled with thundering hooves
Of a stampede offering no inner peace.

Where do they come from?
What is their aim?
How do we handle the tirade, the flood?
Questions on queries on posers and more
Taking our breath away,
Drinking our blood.

We can't control our inquisitive nature.
Like curious cats, we simply must know.
No other creature on this big blue marble
Seeks out his future from eons ago.
Constantly seeking... Endlessly searching...
Longingly looking ahead and behind...
Pondering posers... Thrashing through logic...
Hoping beyond hope to find peace of mind.

We are but children, lost and abandoned
Making our way through an ocean of thought.
Sailing on seas froth with whitecaps of questions,
Searching for calm once the battle is fought.



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Momentum

Gathered in a silent warehouse,
Banking off of subtlety,
Building thrust on borrowed feet
To stand, to walk, to jog, to run.

Sprouting wings as if to fly on
Whiffs of light angelic air,
Climbing to the jet stream where
Her boundless energy can ride.

Now the flow cannot be quelled.
Now the air can only bend
Concentric circles one on one
To wrap around, around again.

Trapped inside this angry vortex,
Miles and miles from hearth and home,
Seeking merciful protection,
Waiting for the rage to end.




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Who’s Voice?

Silence in the midst of hubbub
Sweeps across a crowded room
To land on ever-anxious ears,
Wanting, waiting to be stilled.

Needing nurture,
Seeking solace,
Wishing wisdom come to call,
Wistful wanting
Fuels frustration
In this clustered free-for-all.

Blissful silence sweeps forever.
Listless souls may now rejoice.
Sweet surrender calls my name.
Fleeting question is…
Who’s voice?

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Trains

Clackity clack... Clackity clack...
Beats the rhythm of the track.
Trekking deep into the night,
Straight on through to morning light.

Whether freight or passenger,
The message is the same to her.
"Just keep rolling, moving on.
Dawn to dust... Dusk 'til dawn."

The fate of nations on her back.
Clackity clack... Clackity clack.

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The Innocence of a Child

Hate unlearned, Selfishness applying to
An empty bottle, nothing more.
No fear unless the inner ear
Perceives a sense of falling.
All else unlearned,
A block of clay
All moistened, primed for molding.

Wide eyed child of innocence
Breathe the air of youthfulness.
Soon the world will beat a path
To rob you of your freedom.
Lessons come in many sizes
Shapes and forms. Who knows the package?
Circumstance and happenstance
Are strange professors, guiding all.

May your teacher be compassion.
May your lesson be the truth.
May your heart be always open
As it was in unlearned youth.

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Growing Older

No one likes to do it.
Some will fight in bitter rage.
Most deny its' onset.
But none escape the wrath of age.

A pathway which leads forward;
No backward trails to trek.
He moves in one direction,
Demanding our respect.

No dawdling, no lingering
Or laughing in his face.
No stopping by the wayside.
He demands a steady pace.

He brings on many changes
In us as well as others.
He makes our souls seek common goals.
In time, he makes us brothers.

And if we take it gracefully,
Embrace him to the end,
We can make him our companion.
He can become our friend.

No one likes to do it.
But all must acquiesce.
The creature, age,
The teacher, age,
We all must pass his test.

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Fashionably Late: The Sid Series Review

Fashionably Late: The Sid Series Review

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Have you lost your mind?

Make up? You say you want to make up.
You’re telling me you didn’t mean to be so unkind.
Wake up! After such a fiery breakup
I think we need a little shakeup.
Baby, have you lost your mind?

You and me are like fire and ice.
We can’t exist together.
We’ve been angry since the day we met.
For us to try and see it through
And brave the stormy weather
Would only bring us oceans of regret.

Move on. It’s time for us to move on.
Let our story play out to the end
And let it unwind.
But you say you want to keep us both in play,
Try to find another way.
Baby, have you lost your mind?

There’s no need to disagree.
The answer should be crystal clear.
I don’t know why you can’t see
The only way we should go from here.
But there you stand with your heart in hand
And I am trying hard to find
The words to make you understand the truth…
Baby, have you lost your mind?


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Comments Anyone?

Please leave a sarcastic or critical comment hereabout my cousin, Yvonne Perry. She deserves it. She's making the rest of the family (except me) feel like underachievers as she flits about on her blog tour for her new book, The Sid Series. You see what she's done to my blog already.
Go ahead, I dare you to leave a comment under this post. I'm sure she'll be by to check on it sometime today.

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