Snoring

Oh, the inhumanity that

Seeks to freak my sanity.

That reckless rude cacophony

Of never-ending rumble.

The mournful bleat of sleepless sheep

That rises from the darkened deep

To crash and bash my peaceful sleep

And leave my mind to grumble.

 

Perhaps a pillow firmly placed

Upon an unsuspecting face

Could quit the growl without a trace.

A permanent solution.

Or just a nudge might work instead

To roust the culprit from his bed

And rid the notion from his head

With jolting resolution.

 

I will not smother or cajole

This restless, feckless troubled soul

Whose rashness circumvents my goal

Of peaceful hushed repose.

But I am tempted oh, so dear

To reach whatever might be near

And knock the fool into next year

Or shove marshmallows up his nose. 

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Beaches

Surf and sand for miles and miles

In harmony with endless seas of

Myth and monsters rolling, riding

Through a world of mysteries.

 

A distant storm- of firebolt born- 

Tempts the Fates as they conspire

To offer up the perfect blend of

Earth and water, wind and fire.

 

And none of this can touch me now

As gravity surrounds somehow

But shields me as it penetrates

And begs to lift me on its bough.

 

The waxing moon and stars surmise

That rapture dwells within my eyes

And bid me leave to sweet repose

Far from the reach of mortal lies.

 

And I could bide til dawn awakes

Ne’er to dwell on sad mistakes.

To spend the coming days enlightened

By the wisdom in your wake.

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Comfort

Blissfully, in bartered praise,

I seek sweet comfort in my days 

And writhe about in fitful ways

When hardship floats the bye and bye.

Searching for a peaceful rest

Ere following upon my quest

And questioning which road is best

Til left bereft to wonder why.

 

No loss to heft upon the pyre,

No wading through the muck and mire,

I only have but one desire,

To rest in comforts’ gaze.

To snuggle up in cozy’s warm

Secure from longing, safe from harm

With peaceful respite from the storm

Far from the frantic maze.

 

Come sit with me in comfort’s chair.

Recline, unwind without a care.

Euphoria attends us there

To fill our hearts with dreams.

No worries rush to fill our heads,

No mocking, hawking thoughts of dread.  

A place of peace and rest instead

Where nothing’s as it seems.

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Soft Supple Skin

Touch is orphan to sight and sound,

Oft neglected, seldom noted,

Goes untasted and untested.

Simply taken as for granted until

Dark of night surrounds

And we struggle with the muggle

As other senses have been bested.

 

None can lie or scarce deny

The sensory elation

That cast upon the fingertips

In featherlike sensations.

Cloaked in effervescent rains

The tidal rush ascends.

No higher intoxication

Than the kiss of supple skin.

 

Lying soft in fond embrace,

Tender smiles caress your face.

A gentle kiss upon your nape

That says so much but leaves no trace.

And I am left with dire yen

To touch you once and once again

To know that heaven can descend with

The brush of soft and supple skin.

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Get Off the Sidewalk

Yes, it’s true that sidewalks do

Make it easier to move about

From place to place in the daily pace of

Ambling, scrambling in and out.

 

But every once and then again

It’s somewhat nice to sacrifice

The safety of the proven path

To stumble into paradise.

 

The hidden walkways of the soul

Must oft times seek embellishment

To grow the spirit strong and wise

Inspiring guise of testament

To be within a single moment

Lost within the nothingness

 Captivated by the being

Letting go of pain and stress.

 

Leaping from the sidewalk jungle

Meeting meadows, woods and streams.

Find the treasures lost in silence

There amongst the purest dreams.

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Weeds

Precious little faulted flower

Growing in unknowing haste,

If only others understood

The longing there upon your face.

The struggle in the horrid hearing

That you must always know your place,

The fruit you harvest

And then offer,

Oft neglected.

Such a waste.

 

Out of touch and out of luck,

Will any stop to plead your case?

Or shall you bide your precious season

Longing for a fond embrace?

 

Seize the moment that is gift to

Every entry in your race.

Find the favor,

Yours to savor.

Even weeds succeed with grace.

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Flowers

Where do your lovely flowers grow?

On a hill?

In a meadow?

In a garden in a row?

Where do your colors bloom and shine?

In the sunlight?

In your heart?

In the seeds you leave behind?

 

Flowers are more than we may first assume.

The magic and mystery

Brought forth in bloom,

The bright metaphorical cadence of joy

Is a groundswell of happiness

Bathed in perfume.

And every blossom

-Precious and quaint -

Fades in it’s time

With no hint of complaint,

Content in it’s day with

The picture it painted

It passes all bonds of restraint.

 

And we are the flowers,

The you, we and I,

Who wink at the sunlight

And rise toward the sky.

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A Quiet Mind

Traveling at the speed of light

Almost non-existent

Yet lingering in an afternoon

Leaving a trail of recollection,

A simple thought may rattle round

Along with near a million friends

Cluttering, muttering, oiling and buttering,

Making a mush of an unhushed mind.

Mocked by confusion

Tricked by illusion

Pallid profusion of translucent clouds,

Teetering, tottering

Dickering, dockering

Mocking and shocking

While cloaked in a shroud.

 

Oh, where to turn for sweet consolation?

Solace of silence

In calm meditation,

Soft kiss of bliss in

Devine hesitation.

Lost in the moment

Aloof and resigned.

Seeking the nothing,

Traveling nowhere,

Lost in the temple of

A quiet mind.

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Baseball and Chess

Baseball, so I’ve heard it said,

Is like a lively game of chess.

Posing similarities in strategy, I guess.

You must be forward-thinking

To be ranked among the best

Lest your sails should simply flutter in the breeze.

 

Every move a countermove,

For every hint, deception.

The crystal ball must speak

With clarity without exception.

Otherwise, the vaunted prize was

Forfeit from inception

Laughing at your lack of expertise

 

Bishop, pawn and brave Sir Knight

Rush boldly to the fray to

Push the limits e’er the prize

Should quickly slip away.

Deftly chasing ‘cross the board

Cornering their prey

Until the final chapter at last is done.

 

Either game is bound to bring

Practitioners some fun.

Sadly, I was never very skilled

At either one.

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Flight

Gravity is a universal law

Essential to all existence,

Growing or slowing by relative mass

With elegant class and persistence.

And I and you and

The fresh morning dews

Must yield to the ultimate power

To find it our friend from beginning to end

As life breathes in every flower.

Alas, longing to fly

Far beyond the red sky

From horizon to distant horizon

To frolic and sing

Like a bird on the wing

And elude this terrestrial prison.

As Icarus learned in his quest for the sun

 There is consequence to every action.

And though it be regal

To soar like an eagle

Might we e’er achieve satisfaction?

While we ponder and preen in

Our flying machines

Jumping mountains and oceans

With utter delight

The thought seems absurd

We should covet the birds

And be envious of their flight. 

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So Much to Learn

Seven plus decades have taught me a lot,

Much of which I have long since forgotten

Without ceremony or such tommyrot

To bring me to here where I belong.

 

One might say that learning begins in the womb

And lasts until flesh and bone rest in the tomb.

The struggle of whether to use who or whom,

The difference between right and wrong.

 

Schooling can help just as sure as you please,

And books can convey so much knowledge with ease,

As experience gives with a taunt and a tease

Like the words of a sad country song.

 

And just when I think I know all that I need

Life throws me pickles and spits out the seeds

Leaving me clueless with nary a lead

Believing all promise is gone.

 

But hope is a butterfly flitting about,

Gathering nectar his only concern

And I have a wellspring of knowledge to scout

With evermore so much to learn.

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Isn’t It Fun?

Stop for a moment.

Put down the book and

Take a deep breath to relax.

I’ll wait.

Don’t be shy or demure,

But before you move on

Just know it’s ok to hesitate.

To be in the moment is

Not just a dream you imagined with eyes

Shuttered cold from the light.

It’s more an epiphany

Resting on rainbows, then

Watching as winds grow to

Launch it in flight.

Dancing with joy

As the music plays jauntily, then

Resting a bit to regain the air.

Patiently waiting the slow song,

The ballad,

The warmth of your arms,

The scent of your hair.

Lost in the moment,

Paradise won.

Just you and I.

Isn’t it fun?

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Waiting

Moments pass in endless prattle,

Rigid backs against the wall

Without a clue of who to turn to,

Waiting for the sky to fall.

 

Not one soul to lend an ear or

Seek a favor, friend or foe.

Once secure, now taught to fear for

Silent threats that come and go.

 

Surely, there must be an ending

To this cloak of endless night.

Flip the stone of glimmer’s fortune

That will usher in the light.

 

Teach me, help me to relearn

The confidence that we all knew

When flowers burst in brilliant hues again

In fields where once they grew.

 

Take us to that land of plenty

Where no care would dare remiss.

Waiting patiently with longing

For the phantom world of bliss.

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Zephyrs

Soft as a whisper on welcoming ears,

Soothing as silk swaddling sensitive skin,

The Zephyrus winds wafting over my brow

Like smooth streams from strings

Of a sad violin.

And you are my Juliet, sweet and serene,

The joy of the morning,

Delight of my night.

My guide and my comfort,

Keeper of conscience,

The rhyme to my reason,

The left to my right.

And the west wind may claim you

As one of her own

So no one can hold you

Or build you a home.

And I’ll wait forever

If forever must be

For the zephyrs to bring you to me.

Sunset is fading and time holds the key

As I wait the west winds

To bring you to me.

Alone in the shadows I break down and cry

For a loss I can never deny.

And the west wind may claim you….

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Be

There are trials and troubles that challenge

As the highways ahead unwind,

And as sure as the sun rises up from the East

You are lost in the flurry of time.

You say that you’ll shoulder the burden,

That your heart longs to run wild and free,

But the fears that you’re carrying deep down inside

Can all melt away by degree

If you will just…  be.

 

Every moment is precious,

Each breath is a gift,

Every mem’ry a cherry-red prize.

As you wake every morning to welcome the day

And feel blessed when you open your eyes.

 

There’re a million and one breathless choices.

You can hear as they call out your name.

Some are easy and some are life-changing

Setting all your tomorrows aflame.

But the fires can turn cold in an instant

As you breathe in the sweet morning breeze.

In the stillness the quiet rains soft on your face

In a place beyond reality

Where you can just… be.

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THE TRAIL NEVER ENDS

I couldn't tell you where this trail began;

No one can. It stretches for miles

And leagues and ages and eons gone by.

It troubles philosophers who seek where it leads.

 

Time travels swiftly in every direction,

Not simply forward as we're led to believe.

Our minds are too feeble to capture forever

As we stumble about fulfilling or needs.

 

If there is a forever, I want to go there,

To travel the pathway where Destiny dwells,

To reach out and touch the face of eternity,

Kissing the ring of an undying friend.

 

Touching the garment that falls from His shoulder,

Walking beside Him, lighter than air.

Keeping in step as the road bends before us,

Happily knowing the trail never ends.

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FREE FALL

Life is a free fall

Plunging through darkness;

A slip from the high wire

With no safety net

Down below and the Earth

Climbing higher to meet us

As we plummet headlong

Forsaking regret.

But oh, my!  The feeling,

The exhilaration,

The pump of emotion

Coursing through veins

Set to burst, primed and ready

To seek out adventure,

To loose from the doldrums

And break from the chains.

The wind speeding past

Scorches tender young skin,

And eyes are a blur

As they try to recall.

Braced for the crash

At the end of the ride,

We laugh at the wind...

And enjoy the fall.

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SAY IT IN ENGLISH, PLEASE

Sorry, I know it's rude of me to

Not be able to understand.

Pity that we do not all practice

Similar linguistic speech

So that we might communicate

Like Star Trek's fabled characters

Whose universal translators

Allow a broad outreach.

 

Yes, I studied French and Spanish;

Know a few words and phrases in each;

Know how to say "hello", "goodbye"

In a number of tongues with the greatest of ease.

But if you really want me to understand,

To be able to respond in kind,

Just one favor I ask of you;

Say it in English, please.

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THE WITNESS

I was there.

I saw it happen.

It left a portrait in my mind,

Painted with an artist's brush,

Each stroke awash with vivid pigment

Placed with knowing, seeing hand,

Affixed on canvas, mounted, framed

And there displayed in muted light

In the museum of my mind.

There to be recalled or recreated

At a moment's notice,

Or somehow quietly creeping,

As I lay sleeping, into fitful dreams;

Waking me from restlessness,

Denying fond forgetfulness,

Knowing that I must confess,

Bound to be the lone witness.

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COMFORTABLE SHOES

Faithful conveyors, what I would give to

Ease the burden you must bear, and

Help you to carry this flesh and bone from

Hither to yon and back again.

 

Strapped with the bindings of fashion or season,

Designer's opinion of what you should wear;

Punishment undeserved and unwanted,

Wondering what must have been your great sin.

 

Blessed relief when the trial is over,

The buckles undone, the laces unlaced.

Wonder on wonder, why were you subjected

To such cruel torture meant to abuse,

When a few more moments of searchful reflection

May have offered relief and quickly erased

All the suffering which could be avoided

By choosing a pair of comfortable shoes.

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