Blog Archives

Hard to Please

Man is sometimes a restless creature.

It is but one of his many features.

Wanting what he can’t have to fulfill a desire,

Sometimes he’ll struggle until he expires.

 

With a bank account full, he’ll strain for still more,

Worrying about investments as he paces the floor.

He won’t give up, and he sure won’t quit.

He certainly will not enjoy his wealth one little bit!

 

Cemeteries fill up, stopping these desires and suspense.

So many dying, they’ve had to build a fence.

Someone else will spend that wealth that he worked so hard to get,

But from where he now lies, he can have no regret.

 

The Things I Missed

During all my hurried chase for wealth,

I sacrificed my youth and spoiled my health.

Two young lovers sharing a kiss…

Just one of the many things I missed.

 

So many things yet to do, so much I want to say.

The mirror reflects my wrinkled face, and hair turned whitish-grey.

I don’t remember smelling land after a cleansing rain

Or offering soothing words of comfort to those suffering alone in pain.

 

Did I notice children’s faces looking skyward in delight

As they held on tightly to their multi-colored kites?

Did I collect a seashell from a white beach sand,

And did I get to travel to a distant land?

 

Did I pluck daisy petals or ever smell a rose

Or even try to ice skate after the lakes all froze?

There’s so many things I could add to my lengthy lists,

Containing all the many things I apparently missed.

 

My race is run, my fortune won —

A hollow victory it would seem

For I missed out on simple things,

It is time I can’t redeem.

 

Of my own choice, I rolled the dice

To pursue my wealth

And paid the price.

In the quest, I lost the best when I lost my health.

 

Recording my sad litany

Reveals a truth which I cannot hide:

For though I have wealth, I’ll die a pauper’s death

With all  my music still inside!

 

Just a reminder to remember to raise your awareness to your experiences – each and every day.

God’s blessings upon your journey!

The Seedlings (Newly Edited Version)

The Seedlings has been edited and is now available on Kindle. It is a story of new beginnings, adventure, and hope. Just click on the link under books to taste the flavor.  You will be glad you did.

Broken Dreams

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

It stands on a hilltop,

Abandoned, forlorn,

Weathered and beaten,

Shingles missing and torn.

 

What tales would it tell,

If talk it could?

Peeling paint clings

Precariously to ancient wood.

 

Its old warped floors

Probably knew tiny feet

Of children born there,

So cuddly and sweet.

 

Conversations crossed over

The old kitchen table…

Voices filled with hope,

And arms that were able.

 

With a heart full of prayer,

A bucket full of sweat,

They worked the land

The harvest to get.

 

No one left now

To toil on the land.

Tombstones out back

Mark the passing of man.

 

The old house now stands

Ramshackle, alone —

Its boards bleached out

Like a skeleton of bones.

 

A prayer holds it together

From breaking at the seams —

A monument to man

And his broken dreams.

DSC_0844

Together At Last

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

We’ve traveled many miles,

Both you and I,

Always searching

For when and why.

 

Our pathways meandered

In different directions,

Overcoming many obstacles,

Mixed with objections.

 

Dark clouds and emotions

Fulfilled our days,

As we struggled along

Our own separate ways.

 

The hunger never died,

Instead it actually grew,

Propelling us forward

As life turned its screw.

 

Let others hoot and moan

Their pitiful dirge,

Because, by mere chance,

Our pathways did merge.

 

Together we stand

As a powerful shield,

Radiating sunshine’s rays

Which we both wield.

 

What’s mine is yours;

What’s yours is mine.

We know “who” we are;

Let the others mark time.

 

Let’s not say forever,

Who can fathom that deep?

Today is enough…

Forever ours to keep.

Momma Bear and the Clown

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Momma Bear spoke so softly,

“You know, I’ve seen you around.

I’ve been waiting for someone just like you.

Please, don’t make a sound.”

 

“If you’ll just listen quietly,

I’ll tell you how I feel.

Just look down deep into my eyes.

You’ll see my feeling’s real.”

 

“I know you’re usually laughing,

But I see you’re sad inside.

Because I feel true vibrations,

Emotions you can’t hide.”

 

“Come stay with me for awhile,

And I’ll soothe your aches and pains.

I’ll brighten the spots on your face,

And really make you smile.”

 

The clown looked at Momma Bear,

His heart like pick-up sticks.

Caution weaved through his mind,

‘Cause bears and clowns don’t mix.

 

He gazed into her large brown eyes.

Her love came shining through.

He dwelled languorously there

In limpid pools of sunshine and skies of blue.

 

The end begins here with words,

Yet not a single sound.

Listen carefully to laughter’s merry peals.

Smile — it’s just Momma Bear and her Clown.

 

Levels

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Speak diligently, strive hard

Seeking to find

Higher truths, awareness levels…

Always use your mind.

 

First level, fresh mind,

Everything new, white as chalk.

Learned to speak, began to think,

Slowly learned to walk.

 

Second Level, awkward years,

Body strong, learning right from wrong.

Having fun, wild free years,

Lackadaisical attitude, trying to belong.

 

Third Level, maturity, responsibilities,

Striving to fulfill our dreams,

Different places, varied faces,

Drowning in waterless streams.

 

Fourth Level, yearning yet stable,

Successful, empty, desire burning.

Appreciation of art, beauty, humanity,

Thoughts always churning.

 

Fifth Level, consciousness abides.

A foreboding feeling,

Something surely missing,

Emptiness, realization stealing.

 

Sixth Level, words like stone,

Deep impressions stand alone.

A deep, soft voice says, “Welcome,”

Chill inside my bones.

 

Seventh Level, deep voice, all-wise,

Henceforth and upwards is paradise,

Length, depth and breadth,

Measured with cubic rod.

 

Speak with praise forevermore,

Wrapped in Love,

Praise His Holy name for

You now speak with GOD!

Remember When

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

The way we were blends

Into the way we are.

 

The way we are

Becomes the way we were.

 

The way we were becomes

“Remember when?” And

 

In each other’s eyes

We’ll be young again!

Artist

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Paint with strokes of love,

Brush warmth of summer sun,

Birds fluttering all about,

And clear, blue skies above.

 

Paint happy trees, merry streams,

Stroke in children’s laughter,

Happy dogs and cats,

Lemon light of drowsy dreams.

 

Stroke in cool, green grass,

Quiet, existing limpid pools,

Browns of a robust mountain;

Blend them like sands in an hourglass.

 

Paint no sadness on life’s canvas,

Her presence already abounds;

Life is loaded with her morass,

So…just paint in happy sounds.

Flight

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

To move unfettered in air so rare and pure,

Beneath or above endless banks of clouds.

Unshackled to soar in mind and spirit

To remove earth’s burdensome shroud.

 

Could an eagle speak, would he

Hold us in contempt or in utter disdain,

Poor earth-bound creatures, animals of habit,

Foul air, daily tasks mundane.

 

Spread mighty silver wings,

Soar above the patch-work quilt pattern below.

Fly softly, free spirited,

But fly reverently as you go.

 

Diminished horizons, skies blue and clear,

Atmosphere charged with laughter,

Intangible, invisible

Because other spirits linger here.

 

To leave earth’s cluttered pull, to explore, to seek,

To know, to find lasting contentment,

To search out the truth of the universe

And to know God is man’s essence and ultimate destiny.