It’s a hard thing I must say

Why do things work out like this?

Sometimes words come out this way

Imaginary fairy tales

Prince and damsel, magic kiss

It’s a hard thing I must say

Killing dragons is not child’s play

With blades of words that cannot miss

Sometimes worlds come out this way

I read the book to her that day

She listened, young eyes lost in bliss

It’s a hard thing I must say

Knowing that she’ll never play

With dragons, never hear their hiss

Sometimes words come out this way

I know she’ll have some dues to pay

Before she feels her Father’s kiss

It’s a hard thing I must say

Sometimes worlds come out this way

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Learning to Fly

 

When I was a child

the encyclopedia

was always my closest friend

 

“A” was for animals

“B” was for birds

well worn by the time I was ten

 

I wanted to fly,

run free through the world

free of the childhood disease

 

that struck at age four

and crippled my body

but left my mind fully complete

 

I didn’t know then

that I’d overcome that

and live a full life of great pleasure

 

When I got older

I then understood

that my mind was the ticket to leisure

 

A good education

A career of success

A marriage with two fine kids

 

I traveled the world

and experienced life

better than most people did

 

But the urge for freedom

has never let up

and now that retirement is near

 

I’m back to the animals

and watching the birds

and learning the habits of deer

 

My encyclopedia

is far in the past

but I still carry it in my brain

 

The future I wanted

is what I have now

By flying I outran the pain.

Last Night/This Morning

 

I woke in the middle of the night, last night

Sheets wringing wet with sweat

I woke again in the light, all poetic

And wrote out the first couplet

 

I rose from the bed, words unfinished

I showered, and then stripped the bed

I carried the sheets to the washing machine

While writing more words in my head

 

I started the wash without thinking

Neglecting to put in the soap

It was hard, with the realization

Not to feel like a blithering dope

 

But I know that I get distracted that way

When clouds of wordplay have caught me

Especially, when I try to do something

Before I have had morning coffee.

 

That first poem ended itself as a sonnet

This one did too; that one’s under my bonnet.

Spring Spirit

 

Hummingbird shadows dance on the deck

Morning sun lights up the day

Beautiful springtime entices our senses

Inviting us out to play

 

The Earth in its glorious plenitude

Life’s splendor exploding in flowers

Beasts of the field know it’s time for new birth

Their young hidden deep in their bowers

 

The magic of Spring gives us hope all year ’round

The beauty of new life abounding

Remember this beauty the rest of the year

This season is purely astounding!

 

We must live each day as if it were the last

Savor each moment that passes

Life can be fleeting if taken that way

But not through such rose-colored glasses!

Before:

 

The Unfolding Story

 

The most delicate of dances, the most hesitant of steps

Growing closer, unsure, not yet, not yet…

Exchanging words, changing words, a whirling wind of moods

Still the dance brings them closer and closer, close enough to upset…

 

Second thoughts, can they do this, can it be, please let it be?

Wheel of life turns on, so do they, willingly

Only one way to know, eye to eye, knee to knee

A lifetime to fit into one memory.

 

The story unfolds, one more step in the dance

Brought on by a hunger, for just one more chance

What will it bring them? This wild time will tell

It looks to be going so wonderfully well…

 

So much to discover, so much yet to share

Impossible to convey by messages in air

A long shot; they know, but it must be explored

An unfinished story, each one so adored.

***

 

After:

 

Unfolding

 

Delicate dance, hesitant steps

Closer, unsure, not yet…

Exchanging, changing, whirling in moods

Closer, and closer, upset…

 

Second thoughts, can it be?

Wheel turns on, willingly

Eye to eye, knee to knee

A lifetime in one memory.

 

The story unfolds, still they dance

A hunger for just one more chance

What will it bring? Time will tell

It’s going so wonderfully well…

 

Discovering, so much to share

More than thoughts delivered by air

Together, so much to explore

Each dancer completely adored.

Recirculation

 

The wind is blowing fiercely

Trees are bending down

Summer thunder vigorous

Ozone all around

 

Winds of fall are gentler

Blowing leaves around

Anticipating winter

Wildlife food abounds

 

Winter wind is colder

Some creatures in the ground

Waiting out the cold time

Where they can’t be found

 

Springtime is renewal!

Birds fill the air with sound

Trees are sprouting finery

Beautiful world rebounds!

Trust

 

Loving and trusting go hand in hand

Because love without trust is nothing but sand

A trust betrayed could undo what’s been done

And shatter a friendship that’s been hard-won

 

A Muse of some sort is necessity

for a poet to reach past the norm

The muse itself takes a number of shapes

The best of mine takes female form

 

Inspired to the point that this poet has trouble

in keeping up with the flow

and can only snatch bits and pieces

as the images come and go

 

That’s a good thing, not bad, for the poet

When he finds himself riding the flow

The result is immeasurably better

than something pedantic ’bout snow

 

The poet trusts the Muse to deliver

the path to where beauty lies

While the Muse trusts the poet to be prudent

About just what it is she supplies.