Monthly Archives: July 2013


This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Standing by the seaside

One cold, wet, dreary day,

Longing for some warmth and sun,

My thoughts just slipped away.


There on a sleek, white schooner,

Under a blustery sky,

The wind billowed full her majestic sails,

Causing her rigging to  sigh.


Dark clouds on the horizon

Signaled an on-coming gale.

With canvas shortened and shoulders bared,

She slashed through the rising swell.


Hands clenched tightly, knuckles white,

As she tacks before the wind,

Then relax once more as she gathers

And rights herself again.


Her deck sways gently beneath me now,

Slipping through the warm Gulf Stream,

Able to dance over white cap and calm–

She’s truly an ocean queen.


Streamlined bodies of Neptune

Frolic in playful behavior

As clean, cold spray stings my face

And nostrils inhale the salty savor.


Over on the port side, an island appears to sight,

Lingering in quiet beauty of early morning light.

I spy a sun-browned body, climbing a stately palm

To gather nature’s bounty–ah, what soothing balm!


“Stop dreaming!” my conscious mind shouts at me,

Invading solitude sublime,

But a tiny voice deep inside answers,

“It’s solace for a work-weary mind.”


It seeks to escape harsh reality,

To regain balance on its beam,

And like a ship without a rudder,

So is man without his dream.

Silent Tribute

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Shrouded mist,

Bagpipe dirge,

Mournful notes

Oe’r heath and verge.


Spirit departs,

Yet not alone,

Presence felt

Although it’s gone.


Last note falls

Like a gentle kiss,

Wafting through

Thickened mist.


Note wears thin,

No longer heard.

Break not this silence

With spoken word.

Happiness and Sorrow

This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:


Happiness is sought after before sorrow.

Laughter is sought after before crying.

Those who appreciate happiness and laughter most

Are those who have shed many tears through sorrow.


This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:


We are all vulnerable,

But to what level

Depends on the depth

Of our faith.


This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:


That which is truly mine,

You cannot take.

That which you can take

Was only in my possession

On borrowed time.

Young Again

This poem is in Autumn Leaves:


Pleasingly spread at forty-five,

No longer part of your dreams,

Nor is the way you bulge out

And cram those designer jeans.


Now you wish a new sensation…

To belong to the “Pepsi” generation.

You watch young ladies bending on the tube,

Jazzercizing without cessation.


The night belongs to Michelob;

Young lovers walk the street.

You bend, twist, and sweat

To a frenzied beat.


Madison Avenue ad men

Use every gambit to get you to try it.

Out comes the faithful MasterCard,

And you’re on another diet.


At last, here you stand so shapely,

I’d say a perfect ten.

If you don’t work hard daily,

That old five’ll sneak back again.


Regardless of the outcome,

I’ll still be around,

To support you in your efforts

And love your every pound.


This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Softly, I’m borne away on quiet, muffled wings

Of a beautiful butterfly which only I am privileged to see.

Gorgeous multicolored wings gracefully lift me like a feather,

Bringing my spirit to that very special sanctuary

Which is filled with rainbows, solitude and, of course, dreams.


Here in this special place,

My imagination paints only with soft colors.

Each tree, shrub, vine or plant produces fruits

And flowers in the seasons of my dreams.

Birds of every species and color grace tree and shrub.

They dart here and there, affording hours of pleasure to the eye.

The soft, sweet music of their song carried on the fragrant air

Brings solace to the inner soul.

The heart is light, dancing from sheer exuberance!


Here in my special place, fish bite when fished for,

And grain or fruit grows in abundance when seeds are planted.

Rushing or hurry are strictly forbidden,

And time stands still on command.

Dreams occur in Technicolor, and fantasies are commonplace.

My unfettered imagination is in complete control,

Able to travel into open and distant space instantly.

In my mind, I can visit any continent, country, city or place

At a snap of my fingers.


Here, any desire can achieve satisfaction

As soon as it’s realized and identified,

Without worry, pain or regret.

Should none of my earthly desires satisfy,

Then my inner spirit can be nourished

Through simple, quiet, relaxing thought patterns.

Peaceful, serenity reigns in assurance that all is well

And under complete control of my consciousness.




This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Under stout arms of ancient beech,

Beside placid, looking-glass pool,

Lessons that only nature can teach

In the amphitheater of her school.


Ripples run out from cast-in stone,

Obstructed, lapse into still serenity.

‘Tis music on the ear as lesson travels home.

We find peace, balance, and complete tranquillity.

Betwixt and Between

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Betwixt and between,

Not here, nor there;

Betwixt and between

Existing somewhere.


Omniscient, invisible and

Transparent it seems,

Clinging ever so tenaciously,

Betwixt and between.


Although it can’t be touched,

Nor tasted nor seen,

Doesn’t mean it’s not there,

Betwixt and between.


Search the universe diligently

For mysteries so keen;

Efforts might be rewarded by

A fleeting glimpse of betwixt and between.


This thought is from Autumn Leaves:

I would rather be a poor man,

Rich in heart,

Than a rich man,

Poor in heart.

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