Eighty eight keys entwine their arms
Embracing two souls of enchanted lore
Casting dreams across the melody of notes
Barefoot lovers entwine their love upon the oak wood floor
Eighty eight constellations revolve once more
Gathering the notes of music for heaven’s door
Angels attract two souls on their list
Entwining their hearts forever more
Eighty eight dots and dashes
A special code of love sent from above
Spell out God’s Hugs and Kisses
For two barefoot lovers beloved © 2010
Blank white acid free paper awaits
First blob of ink
As the poet creates
Nouns scream to be picked
Looking for verbs
To join with them at their hips
Mortared together with adjectives and adverbs
Giving life to sentences
As the mind of the poet creates
Some words are erased
Falling into the gutter
Tragic wrecks too something that tried to be embraced
With a surge of artistic talent
The poem blooms too life
Taking flight in the minds of others
As the poet creates © 2010
Mirror why do you frustrate me so
Showing every detail
Screaming too the world
Every fault that prevails
I have tried to creep by
Not to make a sound
Your hearing must be stupendous
You capture every detail and expound
Even in complete darkness
I wonder what you reflect
My mind tells me
You have recorded every detail without neglect
I would like to break you and toss you
But can’t stand the thought
Seven years of bad luck
Just because we fought
Your perfection kills me
Reflecting only what you see
I have now realized the truth
I need to accept me, I need to accept me © 2010
The canvas of emotions can no longer hold the paint
Compassion drips without constraint
Heavenly night will paint the dreams
Weaving together two hearts by the seams
Two living souls asleep under the night time air
Star Dust painting dreams that ensnare
Hunter Fan twirls their emotions
Casting their dreams upon life’s oceans
Pomegranate Candle burns its golden glow
Encasing their dreams in gold
Sleep they must as dreams are told
God paints the canvas to behold ©2010
earth
drained
from winter cold
I will set
dream some dreams that were never told
sky
painted purple
overlayed with hues of gold
too tired to rise
God allow my life to unfold
wind
endless
hardens the ground
listen I will
as pine needles compose their sound
walking
upon frozen ground
crackling spines of pine cones
searching in wonder
realizing I am not alone ©2010
Erich Segal, author of LOVE STORY a tale of doomed romance passed away this last week. I remember seeing this movie with girlfriend who I ended up to marry and we both fell in love with this movie. The one phrase that seemed capture the spirit of the time was “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” The phrase is simple and direct, but I have found over my 36 years of marriage to the same lady that attended this special movie with me that “Sorry” is something that is part of building a stronger relationship. This news of Segal’s passing caused me to write the following poem named “Sorry.”
When you left that night upon that black steed
Hoof prints still echo upon the ground
Trampling my soul from the stampede
Leaving me tied and bound
Silence now interrogates my mind
Building mountains of unearthly sounds
Twisting and turning and never allowing me to unwind
Bony claws clutch my soul and will not let go
I am the one
I am the one
I am the one
I am the one that caused this I know
Sorry isn’t much I know
But Sorry is all I have you know
I will be the one to listen once more
I will be the one to open my heart’s door
I will be the one that will kneel upon the floor
I will be the one to ask for forgiveness once more
I am the one to say I am sorry
If the pain is too much to bear
I will set sail upon tears that we have shared
My boat will make its way with each stroke of oar
You will find me alone on some distant shore ©2010
The grandfather clock chimes once more
Nighttime slumber seems to wake
As one more hour walks out the door
Leaving stillness once more
Clock why do you care
Counting the nighttime hours
Then screaming loudly as if to declare
That more hour has been devoured
Golden glow from midnight oil
Shines upon your empty face
Casting shadows that move
As each hour is retraced
Interweaving seconds and minutes
Are you the one that has become the thief?
Counting away a lifetime of years
Waking my soul to torment and grief
Tomorrow is a new day
Pity I will take upon your heart wood soul
Winding your life upon the hanging brass chain
Leaving the years to count in your control © 2010
Many years ago I fell into debt for many reasons that I will not go into at this time. I wanted to write this poem about the emotional trauma that debt can have on a person / family. I have conquered all my debt and am living totally debt free. I have more recently taught living debt free from a biblical perspective several times at my church. I know many people are out of work and many others are struggling because of the economy … just know that there is a peace that can not be written about that comes from living debt free.
Red ink hemorrhages from my soul
Falling upon the tear stained paper
What demon will be my next woe
As one more bill knocks upon my door
Dreams of yesterday’s toil
Galloped away with a horse called greed
My life was opened and begin to unfold
My soul trampled with hoof prints from the steed
Dusty days of yesterday’s song
Vanished away and taken by the thief
Taking peace for what I longed
Interweaving with his thread called grief
Debt tiptoes through all the glamour
Tempting those who will give ear
Building its house with nail and hammer
Leaving one jailed … then
tiptoes
and quietly
disappears
God save this wretched soul
Am I one that you care to keep?
Weave my nerves I pray
Make me whole so I may sleep
No more debt is my song
Living a new life that I adore
Granting peace for what I longed
Because you see, God knocked upon my door © 2010
Amputees from their limb
They lie curled
Brown
Gold and others
Death with black
Pungent as they lie
They rot away
Brown
Gold and others
Death with black
Earth from whence they lived
They return and rot away
Brown
Gold and others
Death with black
Leaves from Fall
Beckon their call
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