The stream (all workshops)
Pain.
I must see you,
And feel your touch,
Taste you,
I need to smell you,
Pain.
Embrace me
Consume me,
I crave you,
In my flesh and bones,
I need to know you.
Pain,
Crush my mind,
Burn my heart,
Drown my soul,
Mold me,
Into you.
During these minutes before dawn
along this trail i walk upon
rugged woods far from the fen
I seek refuge once again.
Into the forest I am drawn.
The world of men has gone insane
news of naught but war and pain
and the hatred all of this has borne
leaves hopes of peace of mind forlorn
so toward a refuge I now strain.
Some ancient astronomers looked at the heavens
And saw mystical creatures.
I look at the heavens and see God’s handiwork.
Stars sparkling against the black velvet of the sky
Like laughter sparkling in the eyes of a child.
Strewn beyond human vision,
Galaxies woven of starlight and miracle fill my heart.
When I see the stars shining there in silent majesty
Against the vastness of space,
I realize how very small I am in the scheme of things.
And yet, He loves me!
His love for me outshines the brightest of stars.
Spouse of my eldest sister
marital bond fixed in place
strong as mortise and tenon,
he hales of hearty Irish stock
genes of said septuagenarian
analogous to pith and marrow
wrought courtesy divine providence.
At present aforementioned brother in law
recuperating after orthopedic surgeon
alleviated severe pain
NOT linkedin to damaged, injured,
and ossified rotator cuff
as initially surmised, nevertheless
temporarily forcing kinsman
to become a southpaw.
I am offering this poem to Mother Nature
Although through the ages I think she has
heard it all
She is probably laughing her socks off remembering all the libations tossed
People go outside as if it were a
treasured lost art
But it is simply air, trees, animals, earth beneath their toes coexisting in true harmony
She would simply be more pleased
if you were to plant a seed of corn
There is absolutely no knocking needed
to be attuned with her sound garden
Some called her a rescue dog.
True, I adopted her from the local humane society.
The only home she had ever known was gone,
Her previous owner taken to a nursing home.
I found her there,
Huddled in a concrete-floored run,
Matted, tangled, with an overgrown coat,
And no eyes, it seemed, hidden under her bangs.
Truth to tell, she wasn’t much to see.
My heart ached for this little ink blot curled up on the floor.
She stood and crept to the gate where I stood.
Neck stretched out, she sniffed my hand.
Dew drops glisten upon
silver threads carefully intertwined.
Piece by piece, built and rebuilt,
the spider reflects on her work.
What was once a dusty door frame,
has become a work of art.
Through her tears and fears,
something beautiful arose.
Her triumph and escape,
from Hell's all encompassing gate,
finding herself within the mess,
landing safely in her new found web of life.
Chartreuse lace mists a shadow branch
Spring makes her annual advance
Stronger sunlight than months gone by
Fair weather ushered through needle's eye
The air is cool though, even yet
Winter whispers "never forget"
Get away
A time to remember
Family who really loves me
Learning to love them with all my heart and my soul
Vacation
“I hope I die before you”, she worries.
“I don't want to be alone.”
“But you'll have the two dogs and some family.
Besides, I'll need you to host my Celebration of Life,
and read a poem for me. Maybe this one.
And play the music I liked for everyone;
maybe tell a joke or two, so things don’t get too somber.”
“But you won't be there.”
“Yeah, more or less, that's how I see it too my love.”
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