Life Lessons

A lady is the embodiment of style and grace.

A woman is the embodiment of graceful style.

Eternity

Space that has no boundaries

Time that has no meaning

Here all lies undone

Behold the naked truth.

 

For all eternity

That no one can conceive

Our future and our past collide

And form a fragile shell.

 

Our footsteps have all gone

We leave the world at peace

All that lingers on

Is the fragrance of a man.

Children of the Storm

 

The mighty winds are lashing

Torrential rains awash

The storm is in its torrid throes

The darkness still unfettered

 

Beneath the stately boughs

Of a kingly oak

A gentle mother waits her turn

Small life within her breast

 

While all around her quakes

The world has gone askew

The gentle mother bides her time

Until new life be born

 

And now the time is near

The storm still rages on

With perhaps a tiny sigh

The baby chicks are born

 

There is no greater offering

That is ours to give

The gift of life is wondrous

Though stormy be its path.

A Matter of Degrees

 

 

 

Snow drifts slowly to earth

Soft and cold

Each flake a different world

They fuse to cover ours

 

From the heavens

The worlds descend anew

Ever different, ever changing

Ever one

 

A blanket

An image only

The warmth perceived

A matter of degrees

 

Soon, the sun

The tiny worlds dissolve

Gone forever from sight

Until, yet again…..

 

Snow drifts slowly to earth

Soft and cold.

A Little Sparrow

 

 

A little sparrow

Sits quietly

On a branch.

Soon

He sings,

Head back,

Joyful.

All his life

Erupts in

The music

Of his soul.

Oblivious

To the pain,

The hardships,

The deaths.

A little sparrow

Sings.

Take heart

And listen.

A little sparrow

Sings for you.

Whoosh

Whoosh is the sound

Of a life passing by

But wait just a minute

I beg to defy

 

Whoosh is the sound

That I hear in my head

As I flit between poems

And stuff that I’ve read

 

Short stories and quips

A thought just erupted

Came right to my brain

Perhaps I’ve corrupted

 

An idea for a story, oh wait

That’s a quip

Now whoosh it is gone

Not right for this trip

 

Oh look there’s a sale

On shoes for my feet

A poem about footwear?

I’m thinking I’m beat

 

Perhaps maybe not

As exhaustion seeps in

And I flutter about

That whoosh such a din

 

The words racing by

That I’m trying to hold

A few near my pen

My passion is bold

 

I’ll share my beloved

As they’re whooshing about

These words I hold dearly

Some semblance no doubt

 

Whoosh is the sound

Of a life moving on

Not backward but forward

Cuz my time’s not done

 

 

 

The death of a rose

 

So easily the passing

So quickly forgotten

The petals of life

The death of a rose

 

As innocence is lost

As maturity fails

The stem of nourishment

The death of a rose

 

By neglect or by desire

By needless dismissal

The day turns to night

The death of a rose

 

A future that is bleak

A past that is painful

The garden that is waiting

The death of a rose

The days grow short

 

The shadows grow long

As the days grow short

Too much to do

Too little time.

 

And yet we live on

As shadows of ourselves

Not of this world

Not of the future.

 

Our memories are deep

Lasting and true

Tears are a healing balm

For the days grown short.

The Cycle of Life

 

 

Slowly they creep across the landscape

Touching, greeting, moving on

Burrowing, dancing

A mating ritual

Hidden strengths

Pervasive

Faster they move

Covering more ground

Leaping, racing

Like hungry tendrils.

Time a shallow concept

Seconds fly

Minutes

Shadows surrender

The horizon is breached

Dawn has awoken

The dark fast has been broken

The world greets the new day

Life abounds

And pays tribute.

Soon dawn is a memory

As dusk approaches

Haltingly the earth gives up her light

Tendrils retreat

Creatures bed down

The long night begins

A different world emerges.

Between dusk and dawn,

Between dawn and dusk,

The cycle of life continues.

Summer Storms

Violent storms rock the heavens

Rain beats no rhythm

A crack of light

A roll of thunder

Moments to pause

Reflecting the violence.

Summer storms are like no other

A promise of warmth and light

Teasing us with the sun

Then darkness, eerie and unyielding

A patter of moisture

Then the floods from the sky

A flash, a crack

And the rain tests the tolerance.

A collective pause,

Will it continue?

A collective sigh,

It passes on.

The summer storm has touched down

Only briefly,

This time.