Life's About the Adjectives Collection

8/8/2019 Life's About the Adjectives Collection

1/89

Lifes About theAdjectives

by

MH Benton


2/89

Acknowledgments:

The Friends of Hunting Island use A Grain of Sandwith permission on theirwebsite: http://www.friends-of-hunting-island-sc.org/seaoats.html

Lifes About the Adjectives won the 2007 Willard Espy Award for light verseand is published on their website at:http://www.espyfoundation.org/html/EspyAward2007.html

The Dead Mule School of Southern Literture first published The Sound ofSnow in December 2009.

The Dead Mule Society of Southern Literature first published Sea-Foam;Details, Details, Details; Sancho Panza; Kite; and Fallen Leaves in October2009.

The Beaufort Tribune first published The Tide Before Christmas in December2009

ii Copyright 2009 MH Benton. All rights reserved
http://www.espyfoundation.org/html/EspyAward2007.htmlhttp://www.espyfoundation.org/html/EspyAward2007.html


3/89

Table of Contents

A Clipping on the Ground...................1Acrostic ..............................................2

A Grain of Sand..................................3Ashes..................................................4A Ship in Pearl ...................................5Auden Forgive Me...............................6Brand New Day...................................7Breakfast............................................8Circular Logic .....................................9Companions......................................10Days Sweet Morning........................11Echoes..............................................12Epitaph of a Sailor ..........................13Fallen Leaves....................................14

Firth of Clyde....................................15Five Faces of Rain.............................16Four Noble Truths.............................17Garden of Stone...............................18Heartbeats........................................19Human Beings..................................20I Grew up with a Brother...................21Inches from the Shore......................22

June Bug...........................................23Kite...................................................24Life Can Be A Turnip Or A Rose........25Lifes About the Adjectives ..............26

Life's Bouquet...................................27Little Dancers...................................28Love and Fear...................................29Loves Corner...................................30Loves Last Moment...........................31Misty Rays of Light...........................32Moon Queen.....................................33Moonbeams......................................34Morning Song...................................35My Days with Carol...........................36My Thoughts at the Bedruthan Steps37No Better Friend...............................38

Patient Death...................................39Pearls................................................40Porch Swing......................................41Prism Glass.......................................42Reduce to Gain.................................43Reflections........................................44Sailboats...........................................45Sailing the Surf Line.........................46

iii Copyright 2009 MH Benton. All rights reserved


4/89

Sancho Panza...................................47Sea-Foam.........................................48Shooting Star....................................49Some Say.........................................50South Carolina..................................51Still, the Nightingale Sings................52

Tar Baby...........................................53Ten Thousand Tears for Darfur.........54Testing Water...................................55The Beauty of Every Woman............56The Day I Found You.........................57The Halloween Road ........................58The Nights Long Battle....................59The Rain, The Bird, The Fox..............60The Opposite of Love........................61The Sound of Snow...........................62The Tale of a Person.........................63The Thousand Pieces........................64

The Tide Before Christmas...............65The Tome Within..............................67To Mom.............................................68Touching ..........................................69Truth or Darkness.............................70Under the Bong Tree........................71Unfulfilled dreams............................72Unwanted knock...............................73Venus and the Crescent Moon..........74Water Drops.....................................75Waves and Rocks.............................76Webs................................................77

Well Lived.........................................78What Stars Know..............................79When the Banshee Calls...................80Why am I here?................................81Words Cannot Describe....................82Words Upon the Sea.........................83

You Cannot Burn My Flag.................84

iv Copyright 2009 MH Benton. All rights reserved


5/89


6/89

A Clipping on the Ground

Twas nothing much, that blade of grass,

a clipping on the ground.Not worth the time to pick it up,

to do so I was bound,then to free my mind and ponder,

this treasure I had found.

It looked to me to be the same,as millions, maybe more,

unchanging like the grains of sand,which fill the ocean's shore.

To dismiss it would be easy,and drop it to the floor.

I passed it between my fingers,and saw that I was wrong,

to judge it in that simple way,missed its charms all along.

Then with profound will I studied,and heard my subject's song.

As it sang to me of heaven,and things I'll someday see,

it was not a prayer or sermon -it sang of what will be.

Then saw it now through humble eyes,its pristine majesty.

'Tis a complex world made simple,in this gift I have found.

A crack of time is all it tookto know the world around,

from a blade of grass this morning,

a clipping on the ground.


7/89

Acrostic

Acrostic is the poetry of titles, line by line,

Caring not the rhyming, more the rule of left-hand spine.Reading lines East and West gives meaning to each tine,Oriented North and South hides the meaning for us tomine.

So many take the challenge and thoughts they do entwine.

They create for us the poetry and prose we do enshrine.In such works we often find full body, like a wine,Carefully plucked words, like grapes from the vine.


8/89

A Grain of Sand

A grain of sand, nothing more

blowing and rolling about the shore.All alone, one takes no noteits moving about the wild sea oat.

Soon to fall and move no morethe Wind takes another from the shore.Blown again under the nights full moonit finds the oats and forms a dune.

To rise or fall, the tender dunes waitas Wind moves sand to receive its fate.They welcome me back each day anewas I walk within the sunrise hue.

It is the same but different nowthe dunes I see as I make this vow:Dear Lord, I thank you for this daythe same is new in a gentle way.

Each dune is sculpted with your handby blowing around each grain of sand.The dune has beauty as a wholebut is nothing with out the single sands soul.

I pray we learn from the grain of sandto become a part of your larger plan.We each have beauty within our coreits by coming together, we become much more.


9/89

Ashes

I end my days like the ember coalsthat so gently change to ashImbuing warmth until the gray prevailsno more of me left to giveNow, sadly I see the course is runwith only acrid remainsFor fire burns hot but never does lastas all is consumed withinFar too soon the pit is cleared of meI join history's dust bin


10/89

A Ship in Pearl

A battleship of steel that is no more,silently sleeps on Pearl Harbor's floor.

For sixty plus years she's kept men so brave,we all hold-on beloved, to this National grave.In Sunday's slow pace the Japanese took lives,

and tore open the souls of sons, daughters, and wives.The opening blow to a hard fought war,

survivors knew best what the fighting was for.

They gather at Pearl with each lustrum's fall,fewer each time as nature does call.To answer this ill, survivors did run,

avenging ones lost in that solemn morn's sun.Precious are those who stood the line,

when danger was East, across an endless brine.From here to there, they took the fight,

and made them pay high for their wanton spite.Here's to the men, both living and gone,

who gave of themselves when weapons were drawn.The good ship Arizona may be rusting way,forever on patrol, protecting us she'll stay.

Strong with steel, that made her whole,it was the men aboard that gave her the soul.

Now in our hearts, she does sail fast,leading our way, true to the last.

Honor the few who are here from that day,for soon, they too will have gone away.To join with brothers out on the sea,

guarding a future for those who will be.

Thank God for you all


11/89

Auden Forgive Me

Auden forgive me, but I do hate hatsthe power they gave you, for me, costs too much.They are but simple things as surely you knowthen again, they change so much changes profound.

The soul of me is the one thing I possessmy equal share of Gods love and grace.Hats only serve to change my souls projectionand lie to the world as to who I am.


12/89

Brand New Day

Black, deep foreboding night you weaken men of any might.

Creeping, stalking like a thiefyou make us pray for relief.

Cold and lonely you will always bestealing away the things I see.But even you have to hidefor daylight comes, like the tide.

Hues of blue and of graytell the coming of the new-formed day.

So run! Run! Run away!morning comes to lead my way.

Again I see the things I lovethe trees, the grass and sky above.

By Gods great grace and steady handonce again I see the land.

He gives to us in his Sheppards waythe coming of this brand new day.


13/89

Breakfast

The daybreak has a special taste,each morning as I rise.It feeds me deep within my soul,a feast for hungry eyes.

An eastern view is all I need,to nosh my hungry core.

Orangey-blues and purple-grays,I see outside my door.

In a moments time - breakfast ends,colors become one light.Once hidden things are soon revealed,exposed in daytimes dight.

I take with me my special time,and eat throughout the day.It keeps me strong within my soul,

trekking along the way.

To feed ones soul takes varied things,depends on who you are.Some need a smile and some a song,for me its mornings star.


14/89

Circular Logic

My eyes see a tarnished worldA world with stainStain my soulSoul

My soul feels an angry worldA world with hurtHurt my mindMind

My mind needs a better worldA world with delightDelight my heartHeart

My heart is a willing worldA world with trustTrust my eyes

Eyes


15/89

Companions

Lazily I slip along the mud bank, gliding with out a sound.Low tide demands my interest to pass within the marsh.

Snakelike, I travel the path that time has setI round each bend to wondrous creatures big and small.

Be it heron bird or turtle sunning on a stump, they greet me,but only to a point away they go! I have disturbed their day.Forgiveness is assumed as they flee to a comfortable distance.We gain equilibrium of trust, the creatures and me.

Neither wanting nor fearing, we enjoy our moment of faith.Again, the tide demands my attention as I touch upon the bank.I bid farewell to my companions and travel down the way.The next turn is calling, new friendships to be found.

Time grows short, as the day passes and the surge is rushing in.Freedom from the banks has her price - I see the marsh nomore.Only the spartina reaches above the waves, bidding me time togo.I row now home with a smile, for soon I will see my companionsagain.


16/89

Days Sweet Morning

I live in days sweet morning,before you stir about.

On words Im feed and satisfied,yes, coffee very stout!

To read and write in quiet times,allows my mind to run.

I blaze a trail on virgin snow,with thoughts and prose so won.

Thus I write about varied things,just thoughts that strike my mind,some have acrid verse that stings,

some, fodder yet to grind.

Each morning gives a special light,veiling my worldly view,

of common themes, but never trite,I color with this hue.

I need this time to free my heart,to lay my words around,

and seek some wisdom to impart,with verbs that push a noun.

The quiet morn is all I need,to craft my feeling so,

for its the time my muse is freed,and my emotions flow.

To have the world travel aroundis clutter to my mind.

In petty needs and foolish talk,my spirit becomes entwined.

Early I rise to start my day,before the sun does fly.

Still think it strange this thing I do?Well, at least you know why!


17/89


18/89

Epitaph of a Sailor

I sailed across the oceans like Ahab did before.It was no beast from the depths that drove me round Perditions

Flame.I too have given all to a single thought becoming consumed by the sinof it -my last breath of hate so spat.

I joined the ancient mariner on his ship of lonely times.It was no solitary bird, drifting on currents high, which focused all myshame.I wasted lifes precious gift and watched time mark my soul -my own folly chained my neck.

I battled fish like the old man, just a speck upon the sea.It was no noble cause or sustenance for which I fought and landedgame.I reeled sacred lives to me only to watch them be devoured -my vanity noshed on their souls.

I journeyed with Odysseus in Homeric tails of lore,offering myself to recklessness, too clever for sing-song sirens to claim.I faced dangers for no reason, bravado for bravados sake my vessel wrecked upon the shore.

My tales been told ten-thousand times by poets greater than me.No moral was upheld or redemption did I find as lifes innocence didwane.I followed a wake of destruction on this life-course that I sailed -Take heed, my friend, this ten-thousand and one.


19/89

Fallen Leaves

I

Walking the woodland on fallen leavesmy mind soon ambles freeEach step crisp with soundeach sound a whispering spriteThough this is a trail well-worna newness still takes holdNew sprites lead to other pathsnew paths that refresh my soulFurther I trod on fallen leaves -come join my wondering mindThen soon you'll hear the murmuring song

then song can heal your soul

IIWalking the woodland on fallen leaveswe stir with natured heartsEach step heals life's hurteach hurt released from our soulsThough our mind's a trail well-warna newness still survivesNew thoughts falling down like leaves

new leaves that whisper tooFurther we trod to heal ourselves -calling all to join our trekThen soon 'twill be humanities timethen time will heal the world


20/89

Firth of Clyde

Rising up above foam-crest wavesthe Highlands call me home

Yes, call to me in Gaelic tonguesto leave my waters roam

Riding across waves of ocean's farto reach this wondrous shoreI'll soon be there on ancestral landknown by lives before

Then nearer still, the waves reduceI find a river wideI sail within its Lowland shoresupon the Firth of Clyde

As stars reduce by the morning's risemore wonders take their shapeI see cliffs all lined with moss and grassthat form this wondrous scape

This beautiful land with its rugged buildbids to me "come exploreand climb straight up to a Highland lakethen to the Upland moor"

So along the Clyde I sail my craftand enter Scotland's soulLike a Tartan's weave this water bindsa nation as a whole

To the North you see the mountains raiseso rugged and wild and freeTo the South are hills with moors that rollcalling all "look, come see"

But it was the Clyde than won my heartas I sailed to this placeFor it opened wide, like arms stretched outgranting a sense of grace


21/89

Five Faces of Rain

Rains will come and rains will goas many the seasons pass

in different ways its drops will falllike kisses upon the grass

With delicate peas a mist does formand covers a thirsting groundlike the windblown sands getting everywheremist moves with barely a sound

More drop than pea a sprinkle comes nextto the gardeners great delightif all the days had a times like thisthe flowers would grow just right

But gentle rain is what works bestas it does not overwhelmit allows the earth to drink it upand grants life throughout the realm

More than this the storm clouds comeon days with noons high heatdrenching all with a driving forcetoo long and the lands effete

Last is the hard pounding rainthat goes for days and daysit coveys us all within our homesand leaves us in malaise

Look to rain for all it doesno mater what its faceeither to give a drink or wash the landit comes by heavens grace


22/89

Four Noble Truths

There is sufferingof this, no one can deny,for lack of lifes simple needs,mans children often die.

There is cause for sufferingthough rarely the intent,but more by lack of feeling,such innocence is spent.

There is an end of suffering

Sooner or later, the pain will go away,by deeds done or not,we pick the role we play.

There is a path to the end of sufferingbut what, oh what will it be?Will you pick the trail that gives life,or grant death slowly, by degree?


23/89

Garden of Stone

Take me to garden of stone where my brothers rest,

I hear them call and see the path to follow.Lay me down in the marbled rows and add my story to theirs,my days of burden are gone, peace at last, peace.No place else to be, no place else, no place else for me.

Take me to the garden of stone where my brothers rest,Its time to answer the call, the path leads me home.Ill sleep soundly now, a hallowed blanket my friends share withme,No more do I worry, time to sleep, sleep at last, sleep.Take me to the garden garden of stone.


24/89

Heartbeats

If all you wanted was my heartbeat,you only had to ask.Each beat, each pulse of itis there only for you.There is no need for deception,though easy a mark am I.I believe all you tell me, each lie,I do not question them.I cannot I will not!For I am lost in the promise of what might be,what never was.

Take them allI have no further use for heartbeats.


25/89

Human Beings

The world can be a cruel and hurtful placeWe blame fate, or Satan, or even GodAll things that amplify

our own failings as human beings.

Fate does not deal in good or badIt can bear no blame at allAll fate can do is point out

our own failings as human beings

Satan then must be the source of suchBut blaming him only furthers his cause

All the dark one does is allow usour own failings as human beings

Then God must do these worst of thingsBut thats not the God I knowAll God does is love and forgive us


The world can be a cruel and hurtful placeWe blame fate, or Satan, or even GodAll things but where the problem lies



26/89

I Grew up with a Brother

I grew up with a brotherthat had Stephen for his name

A year plus some between us,more apart were we than same.

We had no friends in commonfew interests did we shareWe mixed as oil to waterand became the strangest pair

As teens we both found troublebut each in separate waysTroubles that would haunt usbothupon the life-trails we'd blaze

The distance grew between usas the days then years went byAnd neither seemed to noticeuntil was Dad's time to die

Yes, we both loved our fatheras only a child can doWe shared this point in commonon the day tears formed like dew

We put the past behind usto be brothers on that dayfound we're less differentthan before we'd dare to say

It took Dad's loss to shake us

right down to our very coreTo see the time we wasted

being petty and keeping score

A year plus some then lateragain the family criedThis time we lost my brotherlaid to rest by Daddy's side

If life were based on fairnessthis ending just could not beI'd have time with my brotherlong before his soul was free

Please learn this from my storynot to be the one so proudletting time then slip awayas little time we're allowed

Make the most of life's momentsforgiving the things you must'Tis how I found my brothera true friend that I could trust


27/89

Inches from the Shore

I wondered what today would beas I awoke and found the floor.

Oh, would we find the bigger view,or drown just inches from the shore?

Easy it is to miss the markwhile insisting the marks the goal.And how they love to beat the drumthen proclaim things beyond control.

The bait and switch, or shuck and jiveeach leading to the same result.The sad thing is we know the liesbut give in to the word-smith's cult.

So in the end no view is changedby politicians we have kept.Its not with them the blame does sit'tis pure bull-shit that WE accept.

The art of nothing has to changebefore we can repair this land.Noise over substance - take no moreon this point we must take our stand.

In give and take the answer lies,that requires a bigger soulan open mind to new ideasthat sees our nation as a whole.

So demand the best from your pickthe days after you cast your voteNext time around you'll make them paywith a heave-hoe right from the boat.

And maybe then the others will seeit is us that they can't ignoreto then accept a bigger viewor drown just inches from the shore.


28/89

June Bug

On a starless night filled with hazea porch light shines alone.A yellow-pale reflects on dustsome breath of wind has blown.

And there I sit upon a swingthat moans its off key sound.Soon I'm joined by a million wingsthat charge this light they've found.

They fly a path that's drunkard-straightimbibing on the light.

They dare to get but just so closethen escape away with fright.

The light has magic to a pointas they dart and flit around.But, if to close they dare approachIcarus-like theyll find ground.

So there I sit and watch the sightas they swarm and dance in air.with too much fuss they chase the night

inspired by a porch light's glare.


29/89

Kite

With the fairest of breezes,off I go! I take to flight.

A silken twine holds me fastlooking back, it leads to you.

You, only you hold the twine,I rise further to the skyuntil no sight of you's left,still, the twine holds me to you.

Drunkenly I ride the breezeknowing that you set my course.I reach for the high-up cloudsand then strain against your grasp.

Soon whipping winds have me caught,and they sing upon the twine.A song we both hear and know,a sorrowful, wailing song.

Damage done - the string does partand I flail within a cloud,leaving you there, holding twine.Stringy, stretched, useless twine.

You stand there, left wonderingand I'm lost within the sky.The twine floats back, back to youand I'm numb without it there.

Away I fall lost to youas I crash upon some tree,leaving you with tangled twine -the folly of flying kites.


30/89

Life Can Be A Turnip Or A Rose

Life can be a turnip or a rose -One can give sustenance or beauty.Life can be a feather or a brick -One can go gently or break a window.Life can be red or blue -One can have passion or compassion.Life can be a fox or a rabbit One can hunt or be hunted.Life can be phone call or a letter One is right away, but then what have you got?

Life can beAll things being equal, Id rather be an apple.


31/89

Lifes About the Adjectives

Lifes about the adjectives,its how we know the world.

Nouns, you see, are only names,with adjectives - life is knurled.

Think about the apple,just fruit upon the tree,red ripe skin with tasty pulp,better lets us see.

Providing us the texture,of color if you will,ADJ allows us space,to give our lines the fill.

Lifes about the adjectives,spice for the written line,Verbs, you see, are motion,and index things like time.

Think about the race car,going around the lane,zipping fast with lightning speed,better feeds the brain.

Providing us the feeling,of nature if you will,ADJ gives the taste,to writings we distill.

Verbs contain the action,and nouns have the heart,adjectives add the flavor,for cooks of written art.

Lifes about the adjectives,how else could it be,that words paint the pigments,in poems for us to see?


32/89

Life's Bouquet

The faded light betrays the truth -day's life has passed me by.

Not life lived, for that remainsas memories in my soul.'Tis life unused, a barren seed,that time has swept away with ease,just like dust upon the floor,the musky scent of it lingering in the air.

After night's long reign the sun will riseshining its warmth upon my new dreams.It is left to me to live this day complete,more memories for my soul.Ill sow the seeds and watch dreams growstrong against the wind.We live each day or let it die -there's no one else to blame.

Choose life today, smell its sweet bouquet.


33/89

Little Dancers

As blithe little dancers,gently decorate the sky,

and move across heavens,you question the reasons why.

Bright sunshine or cloudy night,hides them from our view,- they are there and there they stay,never failing to imbue.

Give to us? Yes they do,in whispers so profound;its not with ears you have to hear,for they speak without a sound.

Quiet you mind and listen deep,to that voice within your soul,lay yourself upon the grass,and give to them control.

There flat upon the ground,the dancers work their art,and take from you the burdens,that poison your very heart.

Just things up there, in the sky,some believe the stars to be,for them nothing is certain,no thing can set them free.

For me the stars are angels,that live up in the sky,they give to us Gods wisdom,and answer the question why.


34/89

Love and Fear

Two emotions are all we haveto guide us though our lifeTwo impressions of how things areno matter what our strife

The first is fear and strong it isfor fear can blind the soulthat moment in time when it callsit twists and takes control

The other's love and stronger still

nothing can take its placefor love is truth within the soulour share of godly grace

A newborn cries in to the worlda statement made from fearIt cries alone but soon will ease -a mother's voice to hear

For a mother's bliss shows us bestthe strength love holds within

it conquers fear in whisperedsoundswhen a life does begin

That day of days a child knows loveyet a mother finds fearworried of things to harm her childand clings and holds it near

Hate and joy we surely feelbut not deep at our coreThey are just things that we havelearnedsince that day we were bore

We wrongly name the things wefeelemotions in a groupas if they held an equal strengthlike stock to make a soup

Truth is all the others derivefrom two we really holdThey make us human as we learnhate just can't be that bold

So think of things you truly lovetheir loss will show you fearfrom love and fear true valuecomesto all we hold so dear


35/89

Loves Corner

Just why do we love the way that we do?It seems such a consuming thing, nothing left at all

How much of my soul will love take?All it seems. All!The empty corner in which it lived is barren, blank and stillmy essence, my very essence has slipped onto the floor.

Loves addiction holds me fast, tightly and firmI do not mind, even in loves ruins I feel at homeIsnt love unrequited, love nonetheless?Each heartbeat says yes. Yes!For new love seeks an empty room to fill, color and warmmy essence covered floor invites loves return.


36/89

Loves Last Moment

Missing the days and times we talked,

you sought me as a friend.Long ago feelings hidden, but never put to rest,boil within my soul.How could there ever be anything but love between us?Will I ever be free?I hope, beyond hope that someday we will return,to that happy place we sought.Time does not diminish what the heart can feel,nor will it release me.My door, my heart, my soul will always be open,why do you knock again?You claim me your only friend, one you can trust;to me you turn in times of need.Ask your question and destroy my soul,for another you have found.Words come as burning arrows into my flesh,my heart beats no more.I live in loves last moment, and tightly do I grip,tis my buoy upon the sea.I tell you to go be happy with this love youve found,what else can I do?Loves last moment for you has past, nothing of it remains,the last of you ripped from me.Bitter taste of wanting you is the meal on which I feed;it gives a sickly warmth.Love demands I give you up and let you go your way;love does not care for me.You will never know my empty prison cell; its all thats left me

now.Loves last moment.


37/89

Misty Rays of Light

Softly light does come to methrough mist-veiled forest boughsLighted rays of milky whitejust where some void allows

Half-light lives where rays do notmore gray than color trueYet, rays too are not sincerethey lack truth's special hue

Cathedral walls reaching sky

unchanged from walks beforewhites and grays are all I seeupon this forest's floor

Greens and browns and autumn redsare there but not to seeLight and dark have caged the huesthat long to be set free

A stunning sight, yes it isbut lacks a deeper feel

In the hues that live betweenare feelings much more real

I look at dark and at lightas lack of compromiseExtremes that bind to a thoughtand leads to things unwise


38/89

Moon Queen

Dressed in yellow-cream, the full moon calls,as the morning chases night.

Hurry to me! her lone, last cry,I rush to catch her sight.Covered in blue-gray veils of ribbon clouds,I see the celestial queen,dipping low down the western sky,ever dulling her once-bright sheen.Her sadly soft nighttime cry,begs me to listen on,and have faith in things unseen,as she retreats from daytimes dawn.Gone from sight, she calls no more,my empress of the night,but her words in dark keep me strong,as gray times change to white.Now daylight rules with bright blue skies,as the day king takes his turn,No patience for me this sovereign has,no word, no lesson to learn.The day king, you see, is not that bad,he gives this time to man,then rules on high and more removed,allowing each of us our plan.And fumble we do and run about,trying to be as wise,as the nighttime moon that opens hearts,as she crosses the star filled skies.

So to her words my soul does cling,as I trek throughout my day,Have faith in things you cannot see,for by faith we find our way.


39/89

Moonbeams

As softly as a feathers fall,the moon does give her light,

and touching down with wispy hues,each moonbeam joins the night.

A low hung orb will do it best,throwing a slanted view.As skipping beams cross many things,perception goes askew.

In creamy-whites and palest blues,the moonbeams dance and play,through nighttimes dark and lonely rule,on tree limbs as they sway.

I sit and watch the astral dance,unfold before my eyes,and consume the moist evenings air,which makes up the springtime skies.

Moonbeams are so special, you see,its magic that they hold,each moment they change what we see,nights secrets they unfold.

Moving along to times slow beat,the play is acted out,and lights soon joined upon the stage,as creatures stir about.

Oh what a joy to take them in,each moonbeam one by one.Yet, soon theyll leave me all alone,as morning makes them run.

The moonbeams set the stage at night,like angels running free,that lead me to the mornings lighta dawn for all to see.


40/89

Morning Song

Songbirds gather in the morning mist,and greet the rising sun,like the woodwinds from an orchestra,with unity, as if controlled by one.

From the warbling call of mated wrens,that sing throughout the day,to the staccato cry of the yellowthroat,I listen to what they say.

With sardonic scorn a crow does caw,no care to the current song.

The others go on and ignore the brute,keeping harmony all along.

With each new song the gray gives way,an owl bids us farewell.Nighttime is his time to sing,as he hunts along the trail.

The lighted view has changed the stage,new soloist are on the way.

What-cheer, what-cheer! sings the robin,

as he struts along the day.

Tweedle-tweedle-tchak, is soon replied,by a mockingbird now seen.Not impressed with his red-crest friend,he picks at his stolen bean.

A joyous rite they do each morn,as they sing along,and give to us the special joy,of hearing mornings song.


41/89

My Days with Carol

Lonely was my heart all the days I roamed

Each one as before, no comfort to be foundSo it was, the days before she came into my lifeOnly moments of joyous bliss spotted the sad fabric of mysoulThe brightest spot by far was the day she came to meOur moments in the sun, as we dreamed lovers dreamsTo look upon her face and see her pirates smilefreed me from the shackles of my leathered heartAlas, one cannot stay in the sun too longNor could she stay with me, nor could she with meIt has no good or bad - no measure of right and wrongIt was her heart that was not free to give, regretfully so

Lonely is my heart this new day that I roamThough not like before, I know comfort nowSo it is, this day she left my lifeWondrous thoughts of her spot the new fabric of my soulThe brightest spot by far remains that special dayWalking in the sun - I dream a lovers dreamI think of her lovely face that won me with a smileallowing me to avoid the shackles that seek a supple heartLo, pity me not for loosing her special sunIt shall stay with me always, stay with me alwaysStill no good or bad nor right and wrongit was my heart I freely gave, and joyfully so


42/89

My Thoughts at the Bedruthan Steps

Walking along a hedgerowed laneI wander toward the shore

While stopping at some moss-laced stoneI'm lost in Briton's lore

The rock lined walls down narrow waysadd to the ancient feelHolds me close like a blanket's warmthwith secrets to reveal

Walking again, I reach the seagaled by the ocean's windOn this cliff I feel more aliveand call this land my friend

And through this place I understandthis countrys special coreIt gives me hope for better dayswalking along this shore

From Cornwall's point to Shetland's shorehistory fills each mileBy Aberdeen one finds her soulstretching to Jersey Isle

But here the Steps will tell the truthto all that stroll this wayThe gloried past will come alive -whispers on ocean's spray

A better soul I now possessthese Steps they do inspireSo listen fast and walk the lengthand you can gain her fire

Poets Note:The Bedruthan Steps run along the western Cornish coast of England. It is aruggedly beautiful place with a ever-present wind. One cannot help but beinspired by it.


43/89

No Better Friend

It looks like a twig of three feet tall,a gnarled little stem and no leaves at all.

With winter all gone, ahh warm days at last,this twig will pump life, surprisingly fast.

Soon I will see green over there,where now small branches hold only air.With pride Ill delight in my colorful thumbs,as if Ill play a part in what it becomes.

Springtime gives life, its all Natures plan,nothing so real can be done by man.All I can do is deciding the where,to our earthly mother I entrust its care.

For thirteen weeks Spring gives it her love,with days of sunshine and some rain from above.Then filled with sap and a full mane of leaves,this tree will bear fruit, turning birds into thieves.

For now I will watch each day with delight,as my tree grows strong right before my sight.Springtimes a friend who asks nothing of me,except digging a hole and planting a tree.


44/89

Patient Death

Be careful - you mortal souls,my powers you cannot know

I wait.

You toil and work, stupidlyyour time-marked days slipping away

I wait.

Sooner or later, they are the same to me,you choose, either will do

I wait.

Among you I stand, but you see me not.

Here I am, still you do not see I wait.

Be you beggar-man or saint,that is how you judge the world, not I

I wait.

Think me evil?Someday youll call me friend

till then, Ill wait.


45/89

Pearls

You wear around your necklinea lucid strand of pearls

but to think they hold your beauty -an error made by girls

Pearls do complement the womaneveryone knows it's truebut yet something more goes onbeyond what a pearl can do

See, a pearl can only focusthe charms you keep insideyes, the woman is the secretthe pearls bring out with pride

For a pearl alone is nothingjust some small piece of gritthey only enhance the beautythat's there before they're fit

So wear your pearls on the eveningsand look your very bestbut the beauty lies within youit matters not to how you're dressed!


46/89

Porch Swing

Slowly we move as in a glide,and in my arms you rest,

as a toes push propels the ride,your cheek upon my chest.In slow motion we drift the tide,to pause upon the crest,and then gently back soon well slide,retorting chains protest.

So back and forth we pass the time,enchanted by this thing.As distant bells then strike and chime,from the church where they ring,to etch the soul a point sublime,marked by the last bells ting.Then we rise above lifes abyme,from moments on a swing.

Such simple joys often ignored,while success line we queue.I gain from this a soul restored,my moments spent with you.A swing may be just chain and board,but love it can imbue.So join me soon and well record,more feelings that are true.


47/89

Prism Glass

Days go by as drops of rain.Hours pass; too many to count.

When will we end our isolation?The worth of living is wrapped only

in thoughts of you.The rain drops act as a prism glass,

colors move about like exotic dancers,greens, blues, and shades of red.

You are my prism!Breaking the world into wonderful hues.

Each day without you is reduced toblack and white.

When will I see color again?


48/89

Reduce to Gain

When life looks dark and beyond controltake time to heart and set a goal.

Something small and within your reachrelax your mind - a trick I'll teach.

Your net's been cast, both wide and deepguide its throw to better your keep.Complex work is before you nowjust break it down - I'll show you how.

Sailors upon the rolling seawill reef their sails as storms they flee.So pull life back to hold to your coursefocus your heart - it is the source.

Soon you will have a goal that's doneyes, it was small but still you've won.Then you'll pick the next task to chasefeel in your heart - you'll win this race


49/89

Reflections

To see the path my heart will followis a view without an end.Each day I find new hope.Each day I find new despair.With the coming of age I find myself numbedand little time for childhood dreams.

I look back thru rose-colored eyesand see heroic deeds.My childhood quests are over now-

did we find a grail?I see the children and the answer is yesfor now they own the dreams.

Mine are memories preserved with careneatly in a shoebox, high on a shelf.Notes to myself, letters from friends, photographs-they all are there, is this to be my legacy;or is there greatness yet to come?We shall see!


50/89

Sailboats

Saltwater sprays across the bow

as the hull-line cuts the sea.Close trimmed sails pulling fastas wind blows and sets us free.

Freedom from land and its woesthat tempts us to its cellgives way to us for nature's careas across the waves we sail.

The rigging sings its sanguine songof those who rode before.

They sing of loss and wonders foundand heroic tales of lore.

From crested wave to downward troughswe travel and carry on.In sight of land or open seathe point's to sail along.

So man the wheel and point the craftit's a pleasure few will know.Be it noontime's sun or Midwatch stars

for sure your soul will glow.


51/89


52/89

Sancho Panza

Tell me the truth dear Sancho -they say I've been a fool

for you are the faithful onethat binds, binds me to the world

Some clam my foes just windmillsso tell me again they're beastslet me live to my purposedear Sancho, tell me again

Too long this path we travelyet, still long before we rest

help me for my guard is weakand questions bother my soul

Am I the fool they speak ofor a knight upon a quest?Can my heart be so selflessor have I already failed?

Nothing am I without youstanding always by my sideno matter where lives the beast

always you stand by my side

Tell me the truth dear Sancho -they say I've been a foolfor you will not lie to mewhen I ask you of such things

If dragons are in my mindthey're still dragons nonethelessHelp me again, dear Sancho

and stand with me one more time


53/89

Sea-Foam

Endless sea-foam ribbons twist along the shore left by waves,waves recalled into the sea. Many waves, their numbers never to be known.

With a drunkards walk I trace their path at the waters edge.Though the path I trod leads nowhere, it still gives me direction.My body follows my eyes, my eyes follow the foam, the endless twistingfoam.

Endless sporadic emotions twist within my mind left by pain,pains long ago endured. My pains! Too many to count, these pains that Ihave known.With a drunkards folly I bring them back from my souls darker edge.Though to do so helps nothing, it still gives me direction.My mind follows my soul, my soul follows the emotions, my endless twistingemotions.

Sea-foam is the evidence of waves that once washed upon the shore.The proof they did exist. What more could you ask of a wave? Nothing.Emotions are the evidence that my soul is still there within me.The proof it does exist. What more dare I ask of my soul? Nothing at all.I do not follow the wave, nor do I the pain, sea-foam and emotions areenough for me.


54/89

Shooting Star

On a cold clear night with a million starsI watched one streak the sky

A flickering sprite shooting straight past Marsgrew bold to catch my eye

For a moment of time this life burned brightand held my solemn gazeIt was soon devoured with no trail in sightand left me in a haze

Then this impatient star that streaked the night -gave thought along my waySome orbs shine still while yet others take flighteach, with its roll to play

We live out our lives much like a starmoving throughout the dayPulled by hidden forces both near and farwe're changed along the way

Some will stay put and give a guiding lightfor everyone to seeOthers will shoot out far and blaze from sightbeing burned by breaking free


55/89

Some Say

Some say its a waste of timethis love I have for you.

Some say just move onand find a heart thats true.

I say I know my souland to do so means I die.I say loves not a switchif so, I would surely try.

Some say that I am a foolto love one who doesnt care.Some say that its just no goodand I treat myself unfair.

I say that all should loveand believe the way I do.I say no pain can enda love that is so true.

Some say just let it goas if it were my call.Some say youll love againa soul will soon enthrall.

I say love runs its coursewithout help from me.I say its time that tellsof what this loves to be.

You still say its a waste of timethis love I have for you?I say you may be rightbut what else can I do?


56/89

South Carolina

Through the shadow of a marsh boundpalm,I see the crescent moon,its waved reflection on water's calm -have I found Brigadoon?

Through Sheldon's ruins near theswampy lane,the coast-men call to me.From days of old with rites arcane,they won a home that's free.

Freedom for all took a bit more time,eighty-odd years, or so,and a hundred more it took us to climb,to be more friend than foe.

As the Piedmont's loam does meet themarsh,and rivers cross the land;the winters are clam and never harsh,and living here is grand.

In the upstate mountains reign supremewith great cathedraled ways,we meander down a crystalline stream,thank God for such simple days.

Then rounding East back towards thecoast,the Sand Hills you can climb.With pixie moss to planted pine we toast

Nature's grace - so sublime.

And down further still, next to the sea,Charleston fills your sight.Through history's time she's paid thefeeand yet her future's bright.

Rounding the state such wonders you'llfind,to make a fitting crown,close to all, the capital's designedColumbia is the town!

Judge her by size and she's not thatlarge,for many have more space.Judge her by heart and she leads thecharge,for heart does rule this place.

So at Sheldon's ruins I make this vow,to coast-men from before,"I take up your call, she's my homenow,I'll keep her selfless lore."

Through the shadow of a marsh boundpalm,I know this crescent moon.The waved reflection on water's calm,'tis more than Brigadoon


57/89

Still, the Nightingale Sings

The newspaper brings destruction to my door

still, the nightingale singsPain in the discourse dripping from the inkleaving me no happy thoughtDo I dare hear your feathered song?Sing nightingale, sing

Words of man's vulgar existence rake my soulstill, the nightingale singsThe weight of loss sinks deep into my breasteach heartbeat burns me anewCan your lullaby quiet my soul?Sing nightingale, sing

The damage of once turned pages upon mestill, the nightingale singsThe paper's now something for the firegive to me your sweet refrainWill you heal my heart again tomorrow?Sing! Nightingale, sing!


58/89

Tar Baby

Words that trap and words that scheme,they surround us every day.

Some absurd and some obscene,we will hear along the way.

Often things from days of old,are pocketed from the lines,distorted lies then unfold,truths essence, it undermines.

Silly ones so quick to judge,or believe in ways severe,give offense and hold a grudge,on people they clearly fear.

Tar baby - a sticky snare,and so proper for this rhyme,a trap it is - please beware,keep the meaning from its time.

No racial slur does it mean,or a harmful slap to grant.The morals there in the scene.So read it, to get the slant.

Stupid fools will take great work,and pervert it with disgrace,people, not words are the jerk,so just throw it in their face!

Do not let fools take from us,the good, great works of our past.Shake your head but make no fuss,from ignorance theyve been cast.


59/89

Ten Thousand Tears for Darfur

Ten thousand voices cry in the nightand find no comfort from the sound

Ten thousand more are hushed, beyond life's plightand find communion in the ground

Ten thousands ways to explain the tollbut not one that reports the truthTen thousand grains that steam in a bowlholds more value than that dark-faced youth

Ten thousand vile men do take their cutfrom the little nations care to giveTen thousand times we follow this rutlife drains as water though a sieve

The thousand dreams that see better dayswe need to help the world turn rightTen thousand boot-heals upon the neckuntil al-Bashir ends this fight

Ten thousand days have that long passed bywithout much in the way of peaceTen thousand more allowed to slip throughbefore this violence starts to cease?

Ten thousand shames we have to bearfor this deafness that we've foundTen thousand voices cry in the nightwe've done nothing to ease its sound


60/89

Testing Water

The calm of silky waterswith its green-gray mirrored glaze

calls to all the children"come, come try my sparkling maze."

Too soon without hesitationthey leap without a careand splash into the tide-poolto answer her tempting dare.

Shallow or deep, truth does cometakes just a moment's timeis it safely deep and free from harmor is danger beneath the brine?

Much like the silky waterswith its bright shimmering blazelife tempts us in all our moments"come, come run my twisting maze."

So soon we take the challengeand jump with a mighty leapthat finds us in a tempestas we flee our tide thats neap.

Unsteady or sure, our futures foundafter our moment having funis it surety had, and a life of easeor did we trip and fall undone?

We all must see the follyin answering the water's callbefore we know the price we'll payand to danger we befall.

So think about your actionslong before you make that jumpbe sure you test the watersand avoid that painful thump.


61/89

The Beauty of Every Woman

The beauty of every womanis not about the look

and to think it so would be the sameas the drop to sum the brook

Her soul's the place where beauty writeseach volume of her tomeThen soon the essence of every bookfinds her heart and calls it home

From her heart-page each measure is readto discover her gentle waysproviding to all life's caring loveand guide us throughout our days

The beauty of every womanis all about the soulHer spirit being life's precious scribeetching upon our scrolls

You see, true beauty is a womanno matter what her facefor beauty is seen by special eyesput simply, tis godly grace


62/89

The Day I Found You

We sat upon a swing that dayand made the world our ownWe talked with more than words could saywith seeds our thoughts had sown

For love began upon that swingour souls became as oneFor us the world had joys to bringthrough this life that we've run

I look back now, that day I seeand know I found my soul

It's from life's dark you set me freeand with your love made whole

I love you for you, but really much moreyou taught me to love, you opened loves door


63/89

The Halloween Road

The road was wet and full of wildas nighttime crept and took thesky.So long ago I was a childto young to care or reason why.

My mom had said to mind thetimeas dark that night would surecome fast,but off I went to play and climband lost all track as day marched

passed.

The darkly woods held craggyviewsnext to the well-worn path I trod.A study made in blue-gray huescovered the limbs, the rocks, thesod.

Just what was there I cannot sayfor to the road I kept my feet,

but noise arose where night metdaya beastly low grumbling beat.

Just time before, 'bout half day'sspan'twas a most happy place to be.The birds, the sun both with meranupon the path down to the sea.

But day was lost along that routeso darkened by the dim of night.Courage was gone and soon I'dshoutat ghostly things that gave afright.

So run I did with foot of winglightning fast - as ever I'd go.To make it home, it was the thinghome safe from fear I came toknow.

Yes! There it was upon the porchthe glow of a heavenly light.I fled the woods straight to thetorchhome safe to start Halloween'snight.

That night I stayed to tend thedoleas ghosts and ghouls did ring thebell,candy and luck, it was their goalwhy they'd tempt a witchingnight's spell.

I'd had my fill, was brave no morecostume or mask I would not

wear.My pride was bruised, yes -it wassoreI'd had my fill of being scared.

For me, that time it was enoughto sit by the Autumn night's fire,I left to others to be so toughand temp the devil's own desire.


64/89

The Nights Long Battle

Windy wild foreboding night,blowing things about.

Tree limbs bow to your call,with arms reaching out.

Beating fast my heart does pound,no comfort in this place.Running fast I know not where,or how to win this race.

Tangled now within their grasp,I try to struggle free.Holding tight, with gnarled hands,the branches tear at me.

Before I fade from loss of breath,I fight and try to scream.Awake I do, in a pool of sweat,alas, twas just a dream!


65/89

The Rain, The Bird, The Fox

The slow awakening rumblethat reaches across the skyis chased by winds that mumblerustling through trees in reply

Skies are cloaked in darkly grayas shadows displace the airA storm of spring's on the waywith lightning to flash its glare

The fox forgets the marsh wrenthat held its dangerous gaze

and scurries off to some dento avoid such stormy days

The wren showing lack of fearholding fast upon the yewsings to the storm drawing nearto return the sky to blue

But storms care not for little birdsas they lash and whip the landThey reply with rain as words

and laugh at the small one's stand

All that's seen is cloaked in rainas the furry then arrivesBut from this it's life we gainand upon it we survive

The bird and fox play a partwithin this rain-scripted playA blessed sight from nature's heartobserved on a rainy day


66/89

The Opposite of Love

Although many think it, its not hate.

People have to feel to hate.Another group sees it as anger,That is so very far from the truth.How can any feeling at all be the opposite of love?You cannot love and lack feeling.


67/89

The Sound of Snow

The sound of snow takes on many a formmolds itself to all and soon surrounds itBut when it floats and falls - leaves the swarm'tis the soft "shhhhh..." the soul cannot forget

It calms as the sound slowly covers meand makes me part of the world aroundStill, the white veil does not change leaf or treebut gently covers all and peace is found

A monochrome world that moment existsfor all I hear and see become as one

But if we'd keep it so, we'd be remissaccepting the lie of such beauty spun

This sound of snow gives just a moment's peacebut for that moment pain and hatred cease


68/89

The Tale of a Person

As the tale of a persons lifebegins before their birth

in times past told and stories spunone finds a sense of worth.

On fathers knee or from an old aunts witthe stories take on paint.From pirate, Doc, or baker manthey muse with some restraint.

The tales all grow each time theyre toldand catch a special lore.The yarns burst big - larger than lifebut keep a truthful core.

In fireside chats and seashore strollsyou taste this lovely wine.From words and laughs you drink it upfor its soul is quite benign.

So how it was, is how it is,and thus will ever be.Accounts of loss and lives well lived,they weave lifes tapestry.

Lo, spend your gold on days like thesefor soon the cupboards bare.Give your time to your loving kin,on walks and talks in the seaside air.


69/89

The Thousand Pieces

The thousand pieces that were my heartare strewn about the floor.

Mingled with dust and forgotten things,the vessel beats no more.I searched the land on a sacred quest,like Arthurs men of lore,for the grail-like power you held within,the soul I quested for.

Time after time my heart did break,and weaken every day,leaving my soul in an empty place,your light - all gone away.The color of love I could see no more,and soon I lost my way.Distraction and despair devoured me slow,as hope changed to grey.

A merciless void became my home,a place for me to dwell,darkness and pain, my only friends,company within this cell.Lost within time, I passed the days;yearning for deaths sweet bell,to free my spirit from this quest,pardoned from its hell.


70/89

The Tide Before Christmas

Twas the tide before Christmas, and all along the baynot a creature was swimming, not even a rayThe shrimp boats were moored pier side with care,in hopes that large fish schools soon would be there.

The sand crabs were nestled all snug by the dunesand dreamed of beach combing eluding the loons.And you in your waders and I wrapped with a matheaded home from beach walking, 'twas too cold for no hat.

When just then the sea arose in a latherI tripped over my feet only able to blather.

Away to the dunes we flew with a crashand looked at the water alive with a splash

The moon on the spray up from the boilgave a strange glow to all of this toil.When, to our amazement should appear,an odd clam-sleigh with shrimp for reindeer

Yes he was there, but not like you'd expectol' nick was in shorts, from vacation I suspectFaster than dolphin his champions did ply

singling their names, it seemed they would fly.

"Now Flounder! now Crabby! now, Pincher and Whaley,On, Conch Shell, On Coral, on Sailfish and Eelie.To the top of a swell to the top of a waveNow swim away! Swim away, Swim away -be brave!"

As foam on the waves in whirlwind takes flightor tide bends and rips and you angle rightSo up to the wave crest the champions then swamwith St Nick and the toys, and his sleigh made of clam.

And then just so softly, we heard on the sandthe clicking and snapping of shrimp on the land.As we hid in the dunes and pulled ourselves lownext to our side, we saw St Nicholas' glow.

Not dressed like you'd think from his heed to his footbeach-ish were his clothes, at least there's no soot


71/89

The toys were all dry and kept safely from harmHe looked like a Parrothead and so full of charm

His face was quite tan and blown was his hair,his sandals were all worn from years of wear.

His mouth had a smile only beachcombers knowand his tan made his beard whiter than snow.

A stir-straw he chewed, the type from a drinkwith salt on his chin, from a margarita I thinkI knew when he smiled he truly was realand his belly shock some as he turned on his heel

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly ol' saltbut somehow seemed saintly, with nary a faultand then he did wink and widened his smile

as if to just say the nights task is worthwhile

We followed behind as he went to each homenext to the beach from where we did roamSome magic he used to enter each onechecking his list until he was done

Then back to the clam, that carried him fastand away the shrimp pulled and huffed in a blastWe heard him exclaim as he sailed out of sight"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

Based on Clement Clarke Moores A Visit From St. Nickolas (The Night Before Christmas)


72/89

The Tome Within

What church has God created,

or mosque, or temple to pray?What God created was stoneand tree and ore within steel,nothing, nothing made by man.What road then leads to heaven,on the land or sea or air?Our Home has no directionno matter plan, scheme, or thought,takes a soul to guide a man.What book can teach me better,Bible, Quran or Torah's scroll?

They lack soul's requirementand are empty to my eyes,for His tome's within my heart -Ive no need of God explained.


73/89

To Mom

You are a lady,that, you will always be.

You are sunshine,there to brighten my day.You are happiness,to make sadness fade away.You are wisdom,to show me - when I stray.You are my teacher,to follow along the way.You are my mother,for that, I thank God every day.


74/89

Touching

A touch can mean a thousand things,truth is, maybe more.

The wonders and joy that touching brings,can open a long-closed door.

Emotions swell inside your soul,testing every route,on how to breach the dam or form a hole-Its touch that lets them out.

A touch can be a splendid way,to reach a lovers soul.Each layer of armor moved away,as fingers press and stroll.

To your lovers care you so entrust,the essence of who you are.Released from the ground as with angles dust,your soul can reach a star.

A touchs magic makes a beautiful gift,for lovers in the night.As touching sets ones soul adrift,and frees it with its might.

Not only you did touching heal,for I too received its gift.You gave to me something real,you mended my inner rift.


75/89

Truth or Darkness

Truth can be the bansheescreaming in the night

Truth cant be the villainhiding out of sight

Never is it timidfailing to come throughMore it is the feeling

that keeps ones heart so true.

Darkness is no monsterto pull you to the deepDarkness only covers

the ones who sneak and creep

Truth has no darkness,its more a light thats free

Truth begins with believing,in the darkness you can see.


76/89

Under the Bong Tree

The moon shined bright through the bong tree,over the sandy shore they roamed.

Reckless and wild with hearts so free,they became lovers so far from home.

Hours they lost and the moon hung low,as nighttime slipped them by.

Only this night with heavenly glow,for tomorrow they part and sigh.

A tryst some say, or love affair?was never meant to last.

But a moonlit night without a care,can open the heart so fast.

Moonlight shines on the beach again,but no lovers to be found.

For home theyve gone to wonder when,loves passion again will sound.


77/89

Unfulfilled dreams

Unfulfilled dreams when life does endare the saddest dreams of all.For each one dreamed became a friendthat ends with the heartbeat's fall.

When at last its my day to go.dreams I hope my mind will fill.And yes its sad but even sodays without dreams - sadder still.


78/89

Unwanted knock

Tap, tap, tap...each second slips awayEach second, each second

forever slips away

Rap, rap, rap...comes loudly on my doorComes loudly, comes loudlypounding upon my door

No, no, no...I retreat from this soundRetreating, retreatingfleeing the bothersome sound

Go, go, go!leave me within my shellLeave me, leave me'lone in my wondrous shell


79/89

Venus and the Crescent Moon

A cool waxen peel of light,kissed gently upon the sky,A greenish nymph calls from night,and waits for the moons reply,Earthshine gives her ghostly glow,to the crescent moons remains;night permits the sprite to show,

a bright dot of cottoned grain.Play the night the bodies do,each chasing the Milky Way,joy and hope they do imbue,armor for our coming day.

Venus goes fast through the night,while asking the moon to stay;She knows their place in our sight,and winks as she fades away.

Things in the sky have a life,and great guidance to bestow,a flash reprieve from our strife,tis a better path they show.Watch the night on special eves,and see this for yourself,beyond the boughs full of leaves,moon slice awaits impish elf.


80/89

Water Drops

Silky water drops trace a path,like a drunkard in the lane.

I watch as they fall one by oneoff a broken windowpane.

Arrow-like then, they chase the ground,so now the pathway is true.

For water has a changing heart,it is much like me and you.

At times our love meanders 'roundand has no direction set.Other times - a laser line,

advancing straight, in a jet.

Water, like love, a precious thing;

lo without it we will die.So drop by drop I drink your love,'tis my soul it does supply.


81/89

Waves and Rocks

With furious force each wave doescrashpounding the rock-lined shoreEach has power within itselfneither will win the war.

Time after time waves do cometo meet their craggy foeThe waves give slap to the faceof rocks that take each blow.

The wave's no more, soon as itlandsits force becomes a sprayThe rocks resist and hold the linebut slowly wear away.

Over time waves reduce the rockdown to be simply sandBut sand remains to hold this flowalong this coastal strand.

Stalemates the word for this fightyes, neither side will winIn nature's world its what they dobut for man - 'tis a sin!

We don't have the power of Godto wage an endless warIn youth's pure blood we seed thefightand Satan keeps the score.

Not for the lost does he keep counton his dark tally-boardHe counts the ones that waste themso -they will have his reward.

Stupid is man to act like wavespounding upon the shoresGod gave us love in endless depthswith love we open doors.

Like a wave we can wear awayopponents that we facebut in the end they'll still be thereso why dare run the race?

Someday, I pray, we understandwe're more than just some waveWe carry God's love in our soulsin love our future's paved.


82/89


83/89

Well Lived

A life well lived will always be

a home for heart,for you,for me

So live life well and live it freerecord each day,you live,you see


84/89

What Stars Know

The far off lights that paint the skyas dark does veil the Phoebus stageand the crescent moon's winking eyedo know the truth of wars we wage

For land, for God, for things profoundwe give as reasons why we fightbut orbs up high retort the soundof angry words proclaiming right

Tis death and pain that man does sowupon this home, our home - the earth

the cost exceeds what we can knoware we so vain to set life's worth?

To learn from stars is what we must doLive and let live is the path that's true


85/89

When the Banshee Calls

Life is just a tiradeof many things to do,

while running from the bansheethat lives within the yew

She wails out her warning,"your tirade soon will end!"Warns us to be livingeach day we have to spend

Soon her call is answeredno more, we run aroundthe banshee then will guide us,we trail her wailing sound

Thinking as we journeyabout the days we had -how we should of filled themwith love and not just fad

'Tis easy for the youngto think life will not endthought is nigh given to

fences they've yet to mend

Yes, comes be the bansheeto end the slip if timeToo late then for mending,fences you roughshod climbed

So learn from her wailingon others she does seetheand make sure you give loveeach day you have to breathe


86/89

Why am I here?

To everyone, its plain to see

Overcast gloom controls me no more

Like a trumpet sounding loudlyOver the ramparts of my heart- telling all thatVerily you grant freedom to my soul as IEnjoy the essence of who you are

Yonder days I fear no moreOn the contrary, I await each moment of them forUnyielding joy is the promise of you


87/89

Words Cannot Describe

Do you know just what you have done to my heart?Can you see the depths of joy you've given me?Words will always fail for you I hold apart,and by loving me now you set my soul free.

Can words describe the true feelings of a soul?What chance then has the poet to scribe a line?Weakly then I tell you my tattered soul's whole,and hope I can show you've made life divine.

The best of my words will never say complete,for I long to put heaven upon the page,

warm you in a quilt of words with my soul's heat,hold you and protect you from lifes cold and rage.

In the end love knows nothing about a sentence or a word,so all I can do's love you improving on thats simply absurd.


88/89


89/89

Documents

Life's About the Adjectives Collection