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Saturday, November 23, 2013

a smile




a smile, it dispels the ills and woes
it waters the wilted flower
makes verdant the gold dry grasses
opens the mauve petals of a budding lily
clear streams run and the fish dance in them
a loved family dog quenching its thirst
a broken wing mends and flies to freedom
a mother's child rests on her bosom 
elderly lovers on a park bench
embracing each other
he whispers~ thank you~
a kiss is placed gently on her cheek
two hearts beat healthily
and the smile lives on

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Smile with the moon


the soft white face of the moon
smiles as it rides with its finger like
light rays atop the white caps of
the winter’s breath rolling in

this I always miss when my
eyes close at night yet if its
the last vision they see somehow
its displayed in the background
of my dreams

when my eyes begin to open
after my nights sojourn
the moon begins to smile
welcoming its friend the sun
of whom it shares the glow
from its golden apron

sometimes I wonder if when
my eyes shall close for eternity
will they share the light
of the suns warm gold and 
share a smile with the soft white moon

Monday, November 18, 2013

storm


A demon storm has scathed the land where now lonely people stand
It blew in angry from the ocean fronts just before a holiday
pummeling the landscape with harrowing ocean winds
splintering into tiny sticks and bricks all that stood in its way
strewn about are lost life long possessions
A wailing mother stands in tattered garb screaming
a shrieking sound calling out a garbled name
her child’s tender and loving caress torn away from her
bloodied out stretched empty hands
Her muddied tears cover her face but not enough to shed
the anguish as the wind blows her tangled hair
like Medusa’s snakes but hers rolled in mud and rain
A little toddler holding her older sisters hand stands nearby
in the dirty rain while parts of clothing blow in the wind
some like banners blowing hanging from denuded branches
of a  lowly standing baron tree
A comfort couch and bed thrown atop a mangled car
A stove in the middle of piled debris still with
cooking wares inside where moments earlier it had
started warming turkey and ham and sweet potato pie
It now sits with oven door dangling open
in the middle of a swollen broken street

This lonely mother looking up at the dirty gray sky
trying to negotiate with whom she worships
of this savage storm that cared little about life
that's left her human heart broken and her love torn apart
She asks for answers with the divine grace of her deity
why she’s left to wander in the havoc and this empty desert
an unforgiving world who now seems to her cold and dead
She stands there all alone praying for forgiveness and asking
that her god also take her for without her little one to love and hold
life is no longer worth living in this emptiness
with no more faith and no more hope

 

Sunday, November 17, 2013

vicarious existence


calming warmth surrounds me with
protection from outdoor ravages
of cold and rain howling winds
and those that wish to harm me
out of envy or predatory ways

sitting here in comfort with my thoughts
and creative nurturing to paint lovely
pictures with my words exhorting
the vicarious needs of calm and soothe
a choice to extricate myself from harm

while I do this the desert burns hot and arid
scorching and killing the soul of life
in the forest are the predators who ravage
without care the young fawn grazing
in the open fields tiny rodents scurry to
hide from the incising hawks beak or in the
rivers springs and oceans the fish are unaware
of the portentous eagles talons

gone awry is the human caring for a week
and feeble child who desires but a simple
caress which has been replaced by cold
abandonment and who just wants
to be loved and given one days crumbs
and a warm place to rest

and there are the angry and uncaring
who unabashedly prey upon the weak
for their nominal morsels, steal from
the unwitting, the same who denude our
forests and unabashedly still spew ugly
contaminants into the earths breath

looking outside my window onto swaying
trees whose leaves have been torn away
by the swirling winds that bring in the
winters snow and I sit here with my words
painting pictures of a wintry fest
but I dare not forget how with this pristine
loveliness comes a disheartening gray
and frigid cold