Life’s Blowing Wind

The wind of life blows through me,

At times- it whispers,

At times- it wails;

Allow my soul to be a reed,

And sing a song that never fails,

Wordless singing is clearly true,

Either wailing wind

Or skies of blue;

Give me joyous musings,

If you please,

While in the distant church bells ring,

Birds dispersing magnolia seeds

Along tree- covered silent streets;

And, as sunset wraps herself in dress of gold,

Emotions fade like falling stars,

Streaming past heavens wide and far,

Swiftly subtracting wounding words,

Allow my soul to sing a song.

Happy Father’s Day!!!

To my Father, Husband, Sons, and all the great Dads!!

Life is full of challenges

With dry and dusty roads

But, we knew we were loved

As you showed us rainbows.

You wiped each tear

And said, “Believe”,

Holding each hand

You taught us to dream.

You could have been weary

But we never knew,

You only showed strength

Healing each wound.

Your words did encourage,

Your wisdom embraced us,

You allowed us our choices

As your prayers did protect us.

Dad,

We couldn’t have made it in this life full of pathways

If you hadn’t been holding each hand in your heart

Each and every day.

Thank you dad!!

Your Mask

It covers your soul as darkness draping over the sunlight,

Your Spirit seeks the world with penetrating eyes,

An undisputable wave, a persuaded glance,

A vanity inside abiding, and nonetheless

Fragmented consumed exhibits –

Pieces as shattered glass,

Dusted with suffering in twinkling’s time,

Whirling with frenzy, becoming a cavort

With mere thoughts of an empty heart-

Seeking out an eternity of dual hearts

Winged hand-in-hand evoking beauty,

A joyful dawn, a gem of love,

And mystery given by hours of a gentle work;

Your guarded soul knowing each mask which

Stands wishing and seeking the selfsame,

Poses evolving and amassing little understanding,

Statutes unfair do never-rest,

Simply leads to bareness far and wide;

Prisoner kept inside your encased wearied mask,

Do not accede to life’s ragged hand slaying your treasure,

Disrobe the mask you wear and sanctioned,

Mark your love and tranquility for a time to come,

Allow your soul to breathe unleashed;

Why wear that mask you display?

Rendezvous

Lovers rendezvous at ocean’s break,

Feet upon the sandy brown mat

Whereupon decorates the sill

of water’s foamy welcome;

Towels stretched out on earth’s warm bed,

Hands held tight, intertwined, while days of love

Multiplied by years of knowing hearts,

and wind gently kisses damp bodies;

wet lips leave trails the length of

written names in the sand,

Love devouring souls

with morning’s new light;

Buried treasures reside

for the lovers find, while

Emerged bodies play

in ocean’s temperate water;

Sand pushed between two sets of ten toes,

Surf breaking upon their love,

Surging within their innermost depths of lust,

Mounting heartbeats occur on ocean’s ride;

Later, begin again, on the sand,

where their rendezvous began.

My Muse

A midsummer night in my sentiment
my muse arose depositing poetry at task,
with way of pen—my contemplation
obtaining shape,
my face against the wind,
my essence engaging in words realigning,
together with stillness of reason
and spirit unconfined,
mysterious language assembles,
selected in the same way
as a trusted friend,
with my muse, I write.

Spirits in the Night

There’s a story on the island

of spirits in the night,

a special place where they go to dance

on the sand in the midnight moonlight.

You can hear them singing

and laughing

as they hide in the fog,

they play hide-n-seek and

ride the surf’s roll.

You won’t see their faces—

but they see your soul,

they watch you and hear you

as the island winds blow.

Their seaweed hair wet,

limbs swaying in the mist,

the moonlight gone,

as the sand turns cold,

they return each night,

it’s their favorite place,

well—that’s what I’m told.

He Sings to my Heart

On a warm spring breeze,
Birds chirp their greeting song,
Children play kick ball
On the green grassy knoll,
People laugh while embarking
on their Sunday afternoon stroll,
Tulips peak out from their flowerbeds and,
City lights sparkle in the night;
He strums the strings of my heart,
One small note at a time –
Erasing sadness encased,
Breaching a hedge of grief
Whereupon drapes my heart;

When you pass by my window
Wave to me one more time,
I aim to shed not one more tear,
And seek to wear an unending smile;
Yet, while the famlies sleep
And I am on my own,
No use pretending,
I’m far away from home,
Far from the solace of your arms;

Lonesomeness consumes my heart,
Suffering thirsting to unburden itself,
Desiring to pass through the
Tender gracious heart of another;

He strums the strings of my heart,
One small note at a time –

City lights sparkle in the night.

Angels in the Winds

Angels in the winds

High above the waters

In a land not forsaken

By God’s own gracious hand.

 

I count the glowing windows

As I pass them in the night

Rows of little beacons

Showing me there is life.

 

Moments of comfort,

I am at peace

In the silence of the darkness

As angels watch over me.

A Poet’s Pen

A midsummer night

in my sentiment my muse arose

depositing poetry at task,

with way of pen—

my contemplation obtaining shape,

my face against the wind,

my essence engaging in words realigning,

together with stillness of reason

and spirit unconfined,

mysterious language assembles,

selected in the same way as a trusted friend,

with my muse, I write.

Sweet Designs

I rest on my terrace and the sky is clear,

A few wisps of white clouds are drifting near,

I hear the splashing of water in the fountain nearby,

And the garden plants stretch higher each day that passes by.

The evening is warm as shadows commence their dance,

A light kiss from the wind for me and the plants;

It’s peaceful around me,

While birds do their singing,

A lovely chorus for me and

All who will listen;

Our GOD gave us nature,

And sweet designs from above,

I know that I Thank Him,

I hope it’s enough.

Love’s Attire

Clothe me in your body’s gown,

Raise my spirit to heaven’s crown,

Through the years of solitude,

I watched the seasons change their moods.

 

High in the leaves of the old oak tree,

A blue bird sings a cheerful reveille.

 

My restless spirit fills the air,

The mountain’s presence everywhere,

I lift my hands wearing nature’s somber dress,

Dancing in the moonlight’s painted loveliness.

 

There is no pain or tears tonight,

As I lay in peaceful sleep once more,

Beneath the sky’s restful spell foretold,

 

And wait the sun’s waking rise,

And by her side is morning’s fire,

I will clothe you in my love’s attire.

Autumn Play

Laughing children on a sunny day,

barns stacked full with fresh baled hay,

riped apples on trees in a row,

autumn leaves scattered on the ground below.

Children play in flowered fields,

grazing horses dot the rolling hills,

night is nigh with star splashed sky,

and night will dance with fireflies.