Love Endures And all the world shall slip away, And time shall echo eons Past the secular vernacular To speed it to it’s higher ground. As level passes on to level, Sweeping off old memories and Stepping into worlds anew Stripped of every sight and sound. Nothing ever lasts forever. Nothing ever really ends, just Changes to a new dimension Grounded in another realm. The crossing over pathway shrouded In a cloak of dusty gray To break the dawning of tomorrow Rising to control the helm. Deep within the fight continues Without treaty… without cures. Only one thing offers solace When it’s over… Love endures. Grace   Swift… The sword can be           So unforgiving Striking at random           In tandem or thrice Stalking the night in           Succinct predilection Pumped with bravado           Knowing no shame   Where is my White Knight           On galloping steed? Swift to the fray he rides           Brandishing steel Taking the mantel of           Conquering angel Holding the laurel of           Sweet victory   Grace be my savior           Hope my redeemer Yielding a kiss on           My welcoming cheek Offering manna replete           Sweet with honey Wrapped in blue velvet to           Comfort my soul   Blessings abide as           The sun hugs horizons Always tomorrow in           His home or mine Filled with a confidence           Uncompromising Fear cannot live in           A house blessed by grace. Feel the Rhythm   Do you feel the rhythm flowing Through the life-veins of the street? Catch the gentle rolling motion As it plays beneath your feet. In the early morning prattle From a layered world of dreams Comes an overflow of memory Floating soft upon a stream.   And the way to turn is so clear As you step into the heat. You’re just listening to the rhythm And following the beat. It’s a million miles to Heaven But the journey can be sweet If you let the rhythm carry you away.   There’s a postcard in your mailbox From a lover far away, And you read each word a thousand times Til the letters seem to fade. And the rhythm of the words fall softly From the printed page And form another memory To lock into your safe.   But the world keeps spinning, Swaying to the rhythm of your soul Til the evening falls just like a welcome friend, And the beat subsides but never dies, Just rests upon your mind, And tomorrow you will start it all again, And the rhythm wraps its arms around you Like a long lost friend.	PASSIONS Rising, as mist from a white frozen lake, As a scorching Sun sears it's soft supple flesh. New Spring morning awakening senses, Calling, beckoning, pleading its' case. Crisp and clearing by mid day and yet Lingering quietly, memory pacing, Recalling the freshness, the dewdrops on daffodils Dancing as daylight escapes from its' hold. Fingers tap softly on silky smooth shoulders, Patiently waiting for hopeful reaction. Pictures encapsuled in memory mindful of Each minute detail I find in your face; Tasking this creature who dwells here inside of me. Dare to confront what I know cannot be. Lord, give me strength to be perfect in battle. Passions run hot until flesh is stone cold. Cherry Blossom Smile   Show me just a little of That cherry blossom smile. Not too much, Just enough to last me for a little while.   Wouldn’t want to overload Else I be filled with wild desire and Unable to concentrate on Anything except your fire.   Must admit a lustful bit of Anguish when I hear your name. Cannot hide the awesome pride of Knowing that you feel the same.   We are two and we are one, And that is how it’s meant to be. Yesterday until forever, Lifetime is our destiny.   Every footstep hand in hand, We face every trial, And everything I need is in Your cherry blossom smile.   An Angel Cried   An angel cried this morning As another soul was lost, But not from lack of trying… It just wasn’t meant to be.   The entire choir chimes with Multitudinous dismay at The prospect of her prospect Drudged in mournful harmony.   Oh, if only she would listen, If only she could heed, If faith would yield perception In her muddled little world.   In quiet desperation As the angel band pleads softly She stumbles to the precipice And never hears a word.   A victim of indifference, A case of stubborn pride, Her fate an ageless story As another angel cried.
Posers to Ponder Questions come silently creeping to mind, Queries come begging refined resolution, Posers seek answers to life's little problems, Processing logically to a conclusion. But storm troopers break down the door of confusion, Blitzkrieg, Gestapo, the secret police Collide in a mind filled with thundering hooves Of a stampede offering no inner peace. Where do they come from? What is their aim? How do we handle the tirade, the flood? Questions on queries on posers and more Taking our breath away, Drinking our blood. We can't control our inquisitive nature. Like curious cats, we simply must know. No other creature on this big blue marble Seeks out his future from eons ago. Constantly seeking... Endlessly searching... Longingly looking ahead and behind... Pondering posers... Thrashing through logic... Hoping beyond hope to find peace of mind. We are but children, lost and abandoned Making our way through an ocean of thought. Sailing on seas froth with whitecaps of questions, Searching for calm once the battle is fought.	Cuts to the Bone Traces linger all around In cold deserted streets and byways. Dark back alleys hide the tears Which, wept in acid, burn the flesh And blur the vision, Making life just slightly less intolerable Until a calm can settle in Encircling fears with an iron mesh. Memories are like the swallows Flying back to Capistrano. Even if we tried we couldn't Fight the fate of their return. Finger poised on trigger, Ready to explode when beckoned. Secrets known to one alone; A private lesson to be learned. Who can say which love endures? Who can guess what fates allow? The starting and the ending find Us standing naked and alone. The memory of how it was, Of how it cannot be again, Becomes a slashing saber's edge Which cuts you to the bone.
Glimpses From A Window What is a poem? These lyrical little glimpses of life, Snippets from the window of one's soul; A tiny picture framed in rhyme, Formed by words as they unfold. 'Come, let me show, let me demonstrate', Pleads the poet's gentle sigh. 'Let my words paint a landscape of life, Of the sun and stars, moon and sky.' Quickly the words leap out from the page Flowing swiftly like waters downstream; Painting a portrait of metaphor, Creating a world filled with dreams. Finding our souls with a measure so sure That the truth of it cuts like a knife. Leaving us wondering who stole our tale In a glimpse from the window of life.	Off the Wall Off the ceiling, off the road, Off to the left or right. Bounce a ball off a bald man’s head. Try to start a fight. Bleed the blood of a martyr’s cry Tempt the siren’s beckoning call. Keep the spirit if the fight Comes flying off the wall. Heed the cries, absorb the pain, And let it drain to dry. Scratch and claw back on the ride, Unafraid to try. Beat the odds when challenged to Step up and take the fall. Winners are survivors who Come crashing off the wall.
Don't Shoot the Cook After some consideration of the menu You order your selections one by one. Your server writing down each little detail; Hanging on each word until you're done. Aiming just to please you with fine service; Knowing fully their gratuity Is dependent on your satisfaction, They smile and act as pleasant as can be. Your order quickly place for preparation, The cook assembles the ingredients. Knowing full well your anticipation; Working hard with swift expedience. Your meal prepared by your precise direction; Served promptly, friendly, strictly by the book. So, if it's not exactly to your liking... Who placed the order? Don't shoot the cook.	After Image Childhood... A simpler time When mandates were as yet unknown, Responsibilities unlearned. As children we were all more prone To bask in rays of fantasy, Creating worlds our very own, Using blind imagination As a stepping stone. Images abound aplenty In a child's quick mind, Flashcards stored in memory, No victim of surprise. Not unlike the after image Of a smiling face Which lingers even after You've already closed you eyes. Childhood... Filled with memories, Remembrances to keep, Tiny fragments of our past To carry in our sleep.
Signs Of Spring The blue jay laughs at the young termite Who tries to cut down the great pine tree. The wind sighs through the thickly needled pine. The lilac's fragrance is one of a kind, And the quiet spring rainbow smiles down at me. The showers come softly, soothing and quiet. The sweet shrub in the meadow grows wild and free. The wind sighs through the thickly needled pine. The lilac's fragrance is one of a kind, And the quiet spring rainbow smiles down at me. Daffodils smile sweetly as they rise to kiss the sun. The dogwood flaunts its' stately ware for all the world to see. The wind sighs through the thickly needled pine. The lilac's fragrance is one of a kind, And the quiet spring rainbow smiles down at me. Word Prattle Its only words, But beware of their strength. Words to make mountains Come tumbling down. Loud confrontations, Bold conversation Where blanket cessation Of reason abounds. Droning in monotone, Boring the furniture. Singing in baritone, Thrills for the soul. Spreading the news so Exciting, inviting. Broadcasting views to The suffering folds. Beaches awash in The white sands of history Seeking to separate Sane from absurd. Time prattles on Without judgment, unruffled. Destinies turn On a single word. There Will be More   So, you think this is it, This is the end. Maybe have to go back And start over again. Well, all I can tell you is There will be more. The fountain still runs, The water’s still sweet, And I’ll bring you flowers The next time we meet, And kisses await When you open the door.   No one can know what lies up ahead, A promise unspoken, words left unsaid. You can fill up an ocean, Look behind every door. Still, there will be more.   Sometimes it seems We run out of time. It gets too late For sweet talk and wine And we get too weary To see what’s in store. There’s a new day tomorrow, A new chance to start, To chase all those dreams Held deep in your heart, And always remember There will be more.   No one can know what lies up ahead, A promise unspoken, words left unsaid. You can fill up an ocean, Look behind every door. Still, there will be more.	Walk With Me Walk with me as all the trials Of this weathered world beat down Upon our naked supple flesh to test The strength of our resolve. Help me see the light as we Stroll hand in hand along the sandy Beaches watching sunrise/sunset, Silent as the world revolves. Stay with me. Be my passion. Be my heaven here on earth. Sharing joy as well as sorrow Just the way love's meant to be. Cherishing our time together, Locking treasures in our hearts, From forever 'til forever Take my hand and walk with me. Enter Here Welcome all who dare to enter, Care to take a look inside. Candles flicker introspection; Murky depths where monsters tend to Hide from unsuspecting prey, Shadow stalking building to Last minute leaping, thrashing slashing. If you venture, you must pay. Asking price? A soul or two, Or perhaps your dignity. Brazen is the caretaker who Sells this medicine to you. Cross the threshold of this manor. Plunge to darkness. Rise to light. Hand on dagger, eyes and mind Wide open, challenging the fear. All are mortal in this kingdom Where eternity begins. Voices call out through the gloom, Hope for all who enter here. Looking Back It wasn’t all that long ago, And not so far away, That “Once upon a…” storyline Danced free across our dreams, And “Happ’ly ever after” seemed A possibility As real as any everyday And not just some grand scheme. We look back And maybe smile And sometimes laugh out loud, A salty sense of bittersweet Left resting on the tongue. Nostalgic for the memory, Longing for the touch, Savoring each sultry note of A familiar song. Days slip by as we reflect On things that used to be. Sweetest truffle in the box… Revive my memory.