Monthly Archives: July 2013

One Eyed Bessy

One eyed Bessy
wore a parka in July,
people in the city park
would pause to wonder why.

Her one footed lover
kept a three legged dog,
and upon a unicycle rode
each morning through the sea shore’s fog,

With one huarache sandal,
bermuda shorts and white tank top,
he’d ride with Bessy everyday
through the park to only stop
to wait for Stubs the dog to lift
his missing leg to pee,
then off again they’d serpentine,
laughing on their way to see
the California sea lions
upon the beach in summer’s heat,
where they’d join the barking chorus
and sing out loud in happy beat.

Their special treat was ice cream,
when pennies found were counted spare,
that on the pier they’d pleasure day,
to sit and talk without a care.

Theirs is but a story
about the strength to rise above,
that they in jigsaw pieces found
life’s laughter and the truth of love.


Filed under Perspective, Poetry, True Love

Our Union’s Echo

Dust upon the mantle, deep,
as tones of aching somber hold
the lengthened shadows across the room
to rend the wooden floor to gold.

So worn by every footstep lain
two hundred years could keep,
that grain and pitch and nail combine
in melding, fast asleep.

The air in musk of history
traps my thoughts in what I dream,
and there a conjured memory begs
from Civil War, a scene…
where just beyond the garden gate,
men in grey meet men in blue,
on horseback speak in earnest terms,
then off to leave just standing, two.
I hear a somber canon –
I smell the lilacs full in bloom –
I feel the rose of a lover’s blush,
then find me quiet, here in this room.

The window sash is splintered,
through the frame, the garden gone.
The picket fence in broken angles
casts pickup sticks in shadows long.

I move toward the porch to feel
the southern summer’s setting hush,
and o’er the field before me
sense the rolling guns and troops in rush.
The odor is of powder –
The sounds are pain and desperate cries –
I feel the courage and the anguish
that counted gone so many lives.

A blue jay calls my balance back
to lonely porch and battlefield
where ne’er a plow has broken soil
since when its fate by blood was sealed.

Cicadas welcome home the dusk
to sweetly calm the souls here lain,
and I a nod of hope for them,
and one long tear pulled from the pain,
now etched into my fabric –
now carved in stone upon my soul –
that I recall their history,
their sacrifice, their echo to a union whole.


Filed under History, Memory, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Something Pulls Me

Something there does pull me –

Between the cracking daylight’s seam
and worn to rest at end of dusk –
Something there does pull me –

It leads with motivation born
upon the robin’s morning song,
guides me through a calm enjoyment
wrapped in sun’s rays streaming long.

I task about the pre-work day
with peace of spirit as my guide,
through feeding squirrels, birds, and dog
and watering potted plants outside.

It queues the time for coffee
in synch with chores’ work done,
sits me calmly in front of her,
to loving smile and morning sun.

It pulls me through the work day
with strength in knowing what I do.
It grants my confidence courage
to dive into the corporate zoo.

Yet it pulls me with a knowing
that every moment’s purpose met
will see in me the best of me,
on paths there meant for me I’ve set.

It draws me through the weekend chores
where hands grow tired and sting with sweat,
yet grants a cooling summer breeze
to pleasure useful purpose yet.

It builds a satisfaction
in craftsman’s work and job well done,
it strokes my motivation best
when worn I find it’s all been fun.

And so to evening’s solitude,
a final gift it brings,
granted quiet with pen and pad,
and cigars by which I can blow rings.

Something there does pull me –
Exactly what or who, I’ve guessed,
but the granted gifts in following,
are love, and purpose, and living blessed.


Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Mountain Top

Mountain top in summer’s blue
atop this fold that lends a view
to sights that roll eternal…
Solid green
twixt blossoms seen
that hold eternity vernal.

This is my heart amongst the folds
of granite pined and crystal cold
of streams that source from truth…
That here I stand
a simple man
and to my soul lend proof

that I am one within this,
that I am born of love,
that all my thoughts are kept here
and granted from above.
















Filed under Mountains, Nature, Photography, Poetry, Uncategorized, Universal Soul

Melancholy Granted

Melancholy granted,
uncalled and ne’er a reason why –
comes at moment’s dusk like this,
from silent wood and throbbing sky.

As if it’s called from aging flesh,
greying beard and fading eye.
I feel it so wash o’er me,
that in return I grant a sigh –
to acknowledge day’s escaping,
to ponder on the dreams un-won,
to toast in silent reverie
the man I’ve so become.


Filed under Perpective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Burg at Dusk

A walk amidst the burg tonight
has left a resonant echoed peace
where summer’s hold enjoys the grasp
of July in sweet release.

A distant thunder calls a storm
to pause at foothill’s knee,
defending dusk’s cool silence
and holding calm in every tree.

Avian life so perched in rest
does kindly call a day’s end tune,
begs the children home to nest
with arias sung to bring them soon.

A hush denies the silence,
stilled to only quaking leaves
which stir by some unnoticed breath
that comes in quiet sighs and heaves.

Porch by porch the dusk finds light
as neighbors settle in,
drawing down this fleeting dusk
enough to know this day’s at end.

A distant barking dog,
the laughter of two passersby,
a blue-jay’s call, a robin’s song,
thereby this evening’s peace decried.

Between the trees in shadows
a rush of swallows play fast toward home,
from tree to tree they call and sing,
sweep this fleeting light alone.

Every moment holds its own,
a shadowed thrum of life,
called in subtle mastery
in a peace denied of living’s strife.

Here this peace is brought to me,
from distant storm and play above,
that I through blessings counted
know the truth of God’s sweet love.


Filed under Nature, Perpective, Poetry, Universal Soul


Such soul exposed through smiling eyes,
such depth of love to feel,
draws the heart to knowing that
in God we’re one, we’re real.

Tied to common ether,
bound to common cause,
yet separate paths do guide us,
that through our steps we pause –
grow ego to our selfish state,
refuse to hear the core’s return,
live a life of striving
that not till late we learn
that we are but universal,
spirits in the flesh,
our lives are just transversal
arcs of what we’re meant to learn and catch.

Yet eyes are tied to soulful depths
where truth of what we are is shown,
thus, to us and then from us,
it is our love that’s known.

I see the world around me,
I smile in sweet relief,
that knowing who these souls are
brings my eyes to sparkle deep.

I feel their energy take me,
as I capture fleeting thoughts
of my brother’s eyes and kindest smile
as if by him I’m taught.
I reflect then on my mother
and her loving eyes and caring,
till moved, I feel I must do more,
more I should be sharing
with those who need it most,
with those who long for kindest eyes,
and so reflect from both of them
in smiles to my passersby.


Filed under Family, Memory, Perpective, Poetry

Florida in the sun


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Filed under Nature, Photography