Never did you hear my cry,
nor did you ever see me try.
No first words, no first steps,
no temper tantrums or missteps.
No knowing whether I was a girl or boy,
or watching me grow, no tears of joy.
I'll never see your smiling face,
as I walk down the aisle with grace.
You'll never hold your grandchild near,
you'll never, ever hold me dear.
After the Storm
as you try to quietly enter the archaic garden of greenery,
and once colorful petals of the ancient mansion,
alerting those seeking shelter within,
causing a cachophy of noise, as they skitter about.
A stab of pain pierces your heart as
you observe the desolation after the storm,
the promenade is riddled with debris from the breath of Zeus,
an uneasiness surrounds you as you gasp, breaking the silence
with your voice, talking is useless, no one will hear you, you're alone
A vision of what once was floats into your memories,
but quickly fades as you look around
stunned at the destruction that has come
to this once beautiful place
No longer a haven of solitude and peacefulness,
now only a broken memory; a shell of what once was.
Tearfully, you begin to pick up the battered remnants
of your past. Wallowing in sorrow, lost-
with only fleeting moments of happiness,
quickly replaced by grief and sorrow.
The storm has passed but the remnants
of it's fury remain and seems to laugh
at the pain and destruction it has left.
But for...
A lonely old woman walks,
Slowly from her domicile,
Eyes flashing as a train passes,
Closely by the sacred grounds
No longer an ostrich with her
Head in the sand, she rises up
Proudly past an orgy of madness
Into the chamber as a chorus
Of indolence assails her senses.
She says, "Give me back my freedom"
Raising her cane and shaking it angrily,
"and to those who you ignore,
The pleas of the masses, only to
Give rise to indecency and deceit.
Drowning out the cries of the lost,
You who pass by those in rags,
On the streets in disgust. For it is
Said, "there but for the grace of God, go I"
Remember, those down-trodden, for if
You continue to ignore the cries of those in need
You may no longer have the grace of God, upon you.
Then she turned and quietly left,
smiling from the look of amazement and disbelief
upon the faces of the congressmen .
Slowly from her domicile,
Eyes flashing as a train passes,
Closely by the sacred grounds
No longer an ostrich with her
Head in the sand, she rises up
Proudly past an orgy of madness
Into the chamber as a chorus
Of indolence assails her senses.
She says, "Give me back my freedom"
Raising her cane and shaking it angrily,
"and to those who you ignore,
The pleas of the masses, only to
Give rise to indecency and deceit.
Drowning out the cries of the lost,
You who pass by those in rags,
On the streets in disgust. For it is
Said, "there but for the grace of God, go I"
Remember, those down-trodden, for if
You continue to ignore the cries of those in need
You may no longer have the grace of God, upon you.
Then she turned and quietly left,
smiling from the look of amazement and disbelief
upon the faces of the congressmen .
Lilacs
The Scent of Lilacs is in the air,
Bringing hopes of spring everywhere.
Soon we'll see the butterflies,
for now the blooms just begin to rise.
Slowly as the days march by,
the lilacs wither with a sigh.
As summer comes and days grow long,
Mother Earth sings her song.
It's into autumn now we go,
as vivid colors around us flow.
The trees prepare for winter’s prize,
the leaves floating to earth
like butterflies
For now the trees will prepare,
to receive winter’s roar,
without a care.
The air turns cold,
then snowflakes fall,
as the frost
from Jack surrounds us all.
Then, as winter fades away,
with the warmth of spring.
day by day, Mother's song
begins again,
while softly falls
the springtime rain.
As sunshine spreads and rain subsides
The arc of color no longer hides
The rainbow now no longer there,
The Scent of lilacs in the air.
Bringing hopes of spring everywhere.
Soon we'll see the butterflies,
for now the blooms just begin to rise.
Slowly as the days march by,
the lilacs wither with a sigh.
As summer comes and days grow long,
Mother Earth sings her song.
It's into autumn now we go,
as vivid colors around us flow.
The trees prepare for winter’s prize,
the leaves floating to earth
like butterflies
For now the trees will prepare,
to receive winter’s roar,
without a care.
The air turns cold,
then snowflakes fall,
as the frost
from Jack surrounds us all.
Then, as winter fades away,
with the warmth of spring.
day by day, Mother's song
begins again,
while softly falls
the springtime rain.
As sunshine spreads and rain subsides
The arc of color no longer hides
The rainbow now no longer there,
The Scent of lilacs in the air.
Lilacs In Bloom
When lilacs first in my backyard bloom,
their scent and color remove all gloom,
The sunny skies, the soft warm rain,
allows them to live again.
But as the days begin to change,
their scent and color fades and then
The petals they begin to fall,
welcoming summer in for all,
The early rise of lilacs reign,
resigns to summer’s mighty campaign,
to nurture the earth for growth of plants,
from corn to wheat with just a glance.
The grains that have been grown,
as fall arrives will soon be sown,
To become the source for many juices, oils, and bread,
for those on earth who shall be fed.
As the season begins to change,
the land the workers will rearrange,
In preparation for winter’s roar,
as many birds begin to soar,
The lilac bush it’s leaves now gone,
prepared to receive winter’s dawn,
Quietly it lies in wait,
for the snowy days to abate
Then again as the cycle turns,
the sun will then begin to burn,
Away the snow from all the land,
to warm the earth where lilacs stand,
The cycle now begins again,
with sunny skies and soft warm rain
When lilacs first in my backyard bloom,
their scent and color remove all gloom.
their scent and color remove all gloom,
The sunny skies, the soft warm rain,
allows them to live again.
But as the days begin to change,
their scent and color fades and then
The petals they begin to fall,
welcoming summer in for all,
The early rise of lilacs reign,
resigns to summer’s mighty campaign,
to nurture the earth for growth of plants,
from corn to wheat with just a glance.
The grains that have been grown,
as fall arrives will soon be sown,
To become the source for many juices, oils, and bread,
for those on earth who shall be fed.
As the season begins to change,
the land the workers will rearrange,
In preparation for winter’s roar,
as many birds begin to soar,
The lilac bush it’s leaves now gone,
prepared to receive winter’s dawn,
Quietly it lies in wait,
for the snowy days to abate
Then again as the cycle turns,
the sun will then begin to burn,
Away the snow from all the land,
to warm the earth where lilacs stand,
The cycle now begins again,
with sunny skies and soft warm rain
When lilacs first in my backyard bloom,
their scent and color remove all gloom.
Love and Memories
The old quill pen is dipped in ink of blue,
while the old woman sips upon her brew,
as a tape plays softly in the air,
an older song called "Running Bear"
Ooo-gash-a-gow-ooo the rhythm goes,
as the old woman taps her toes.
In tune it seems to the drummer's beat,
she usually can't even move her feet.
Lost in time upon her porch
her sister writes letters of retort,
To her loved one long since dead,
though she still sees him in her head.
Here I sit upon my knees
watching this with reverency
As I prepare tonight's treat,
strawberries their favorite sweet.
I bow my head so they can't see
the tears that are flowing so free.
For I know soon will be their fate
gone from earth to heaven's gate.
I sit here watching quietly
as two old women whom I love,
bask in the sunlight while I kneel
down upon my knees
thanking our Lord
for giving me
these two ladies
to love every day.
As a tape of Sonny James
plays softly in the air
an older song
called "Running Bear"
while the old woman sips upon her brew,
as a tape plays softly in the air,
an older song called "Running Bear"
Ooo-gash-a-gow-ooo the rhythm goes,
as the old woman taps her toes.
In tune it seems to the drummer's beat,
she usually can't even move her feet.
Lost in time upon her porch
her sister writes letters of retort,
To her loved one long since dead,
though she still sees him in her head.
Here I sit upon my knees
watching this with reverency
As I prepare tonight's treat,
strawberries their favorite sweet.
I bow my head so they can't see
the tears that are flowing so free.
For I know soon will be their fate
gone from earth to heaven's gate.
I sit here watching quietly
as two old women whom I love,
bask in the sunlight while I kneel
down upon my knees
thanking our Lord
for giving me
these two ladies
to love every day.
As a tape of Sonny James
plays softly in the air
an older song
called "Running Bear"
Rhythm
A warm spring rain falls softly in the courtyard,
you hear a Latin beat as you quickly move forward
Drenched from head to toe you step into the Tavern
Sidle up to the bar and order something to calm you.
The rhythm from the maracas, tambourine, and guitars
invades your soul, taking you on a fantastic journey.
You watch the senoritas and the senors as they tango,
your foot tapping to the sensuous beat the rhythm of love.
Soon you are swept up into the dance, life is good.
Laughter and love fills you, as the drinks continue to flow.
Soon the rhythm reaches a crescendo and now no longer drenched
you down the last drop of tequila, adjust your hat and return to the world.
you hear a Latin beat as you quickly move forward
Drenched from head to toe you step into the Tavern
Sidle up to the bar and order something to calm you.
The rhythm from the maracas, tambourine, and guitars
invades your soul, taking you on a fantastic journey.
You watch the senoritas and the senors as they tango,
your foot tapping to the sensuous beat the rhythm of love.
Soon you are swept up into the dance, life is good.
Laughter and love fills you, as the drinks continue to flow.
Soon the rhythm reaches a crescendo and now no longer drenched
you down the last drop of tequila, adjust your hat and return to the world.
Thunderstorms!
Summer storms a vison of wonder
the darking skies, the rolling thunder
the rising wind, the falling rain
the lightening flash like cymbals crash
this is what I enjoy the wildness of a thunderstorm
the darking skies, the rolling thunder
the rising wind, the falling rain
the lightening flash like cymbals crash
this is what I enjoy the wildness of a thunderstorm
Contemplation
As I had closed my eyes last night,
a flash of blue just caught my sight
Soon this had turned to shades of black
as shades of purple drew me back.
Then a rainbow came into view
a phantasm from reds to blues
Then a curtain began to fall
but an orb of light centered all
Soon the light a hue of blue
softened what then came into view
A flash of golden on my right,
a smiling face came into sight.
As I entered a dreamlike state,
colors blend to reveal my fate
a flash of blue just caught my sight
Soon this had turned to shades of black
as shades of purple drew me back.
Then a rainbow came into view
a phantasm from reds to blues
Then a curtain began to fall
but an orb of light centered all
Soon the light a hue of blue
softened what then came into view
A flash of golden on my right,
a smiling face came into sight.
As I entered a dreamlike state,
colors blend to reveal my fate
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