Magazine Posts

Great God, up above,
will you please pay attention.
I was extra good today
and didn't even make
honorable mention.

Your whole life begins
each morning,
at the dawning of each,
beautiful day.
The future lies there,
before you
and it's waiting for you
to say,
that you enjoy life
and living,
in your own, warm and
loving way.

With my hand, laid gently
on your breast,
I draw the strength from
your body.
Your thoughts, become my thoughts,
your moods, my moods,
as we become one.
One being, coupled together,
through loves own passion.
A short lived, fleeting moment,
much too brief.
Loves ardor, now gone,
for the moment.

Soft is the shadow
under the tree.
Soft is the foam,
in from the sea.
Soft is the down,
from the breast of a dove.
Soft are the sounds of
the clouds up above.
Softest of all is
the sound of new love.

All twilight people are coming forth,
to make their presence known.
Arriving by the evening breeze,
tossed and turning, they have flown
to be present for the witching hour.
They dance lightly, in the air,
rhythmically jerking by hidden string
as transistors, in their voice box,
causes them to sing,
a mournful ditty.

Must we play games
of word and rhyme?
Asking questions, about the time,
when we were young.
Such strangers we are,
you and I,
always talking but never to try,
understanding.
You want your way
and I want mine.
You do your thing,
that will be fine,
if you believe.

A day at Rosamond Gifford Zoo in Syracuse, NY

Who are you child,
who sits on my knee,
all dressed in purple and brown?
What is this riddle,
you just told to me,
about elephants, monkeys and clowns?
Your tale of visions
conjures, up in my mind,
a picture of events, yet to be
and reminds me of a day,
many, long years ago,
when it was I who sat on a knee.

I have admired you,
from near and far,
creature of beauty,
that you are
and I see you.

Secretive glances
that I've made,
unable to utter,
my words, unsaid
and unspoken.

We are worlds apart,
you and I,
nor can you see,
the look in my eye,
as I think of you.

Your smile reminds me
of far off places
and lovely faces.
The promises I see there,
are yours to make,
not mine to take,
but I will,
if you let me.

Anguish, deep within me,
tears away my soul.
Troubled and tormented thoughts,
lie heavy in my brain.

Stealing, lying, cheating, dying,
asking of my love, again,
to stay.

Dying is for other men,
it's certainly not for me.
I plan to live forever,
at least an eternity.
Those are thoughts shared by all
the children, yet to be,
unaware they can't live forever
and never will be free.