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Solitary Rose
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
In a single vase, a rose alone,
No spoken words intone,
But, could it speak, what prose
Would issue forth from this rose?
Surrounded by a snowy wealth,
Tightly nestled in baby’s breath,
Beauty and essence silently unfold.
Ageless message again retold.
Surrendering all, no questions why.
Muted beauty, silent to the eye.
Yet, could it speak real words, too:
“I’m love’s sweet token, just for you!”
The Entity
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Brighter than a falling meteor,
Shorter than an excited breath,
More fleeting than a passing moment,
Faster than a bolt of lightning.
Colder than a frigid arctic blast,
Higher than an eye straining cloud,
Softer than wind-blown thistledown,
Harder than the hardest diamond.
This entity comes quietly, yet quickly.
Lingers softly, burns hotly, turns cold
And leaves faster than it came.
Having brought joy with its arrival,
It now leaves sorrow in its wake.
Not to know it brings emptiness,
And to know it brings joy and bittersweet memories!
Such is this thing known throughout the world as Love…
And stranger still — no one can define it.
Ironic Circle
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
The first men on our shores had freedom,
But little time to truly experience it
As they struggled to make their place and tame this big land.
Building, hunting, foraging, and planting consumed much of their energy,
But they had freedom.
Later, men struggled in chains,
Dying to secure richer lives for their owners.
Throughout their lives of trials and tribulations,
They held to their dreams tenaciously —
Their dreams of freedom.
Later still, men fought and died by the thousands in great wars
To stop tyrants and secure freedom more concretely.
They fought, bled and died to uphold
Our country’s cherished principles,
But these men died, knowing freedom.
Even later, men who knew freedom’s sweetness and blessings
Let it erode because of greed, indifference,
Lust for material wealth and apathy.
Blinded by these pursuits,
They became disillusioned and let it slip away.
Ironic? Yes! Men who realized freedom,
But no time to fully appreciate it.
Men who didn’t have it and could only dream of its possession.
Men who knew it and died fighting to hold it.
Men without vision who let it slip away like a thief in the night.
Retreat
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Rock-covered water,
Cold, chuckling creek
Splashes, tumbles happily,
Almost lulls me to sleep.
Reclining on green grass,
Warm sun on my face,
Nature working magic
Hectic schedules to erase.
Beauty surrounds me —
All surely heaven sent.
Pine-laden air,
Spruce trees generously lent.
Mind relaxed,
Mountains seem to tower.
Each minute thus spent
Prolongs life by an hour.
Red-tailed hawk above
Surveys this lovely span.
Makes one glad to be alive,
Glad to be a man.
I’ll think with sympathy
Of those left far behind,
Facing traffic snarls,
Smog, or waiting in a line.
But, then, they may like neon lights,
Consider it great fun.
I’ll give them a thought anyway
As I soak up the sun.
Failure
This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:
Never fear life’s failures, for they are the
granite building blocks that make a solid
foundation in life — provided one perseveres.
Have I Told You Lately?
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Did I say, “I love you?”
Have I told you what’s in my heart?
In my mind, I’ve thought of countless ways to do it…
This knowledge to impart.
Do you see my lips moving?
Just as my heart commands.
Can I express it adequately?
Will you understand?
I know I must have done it
At least a thousand times.
Haven’t I told you daily,
Or is it all just in my mind?
Maybe then I just can’t say it,
Or express my feelings clear,
Then let me try to write it down,
I love you so much, my dear.
.
Vulnerability
This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:
We are all vulnerable,
But to what level
Depends on the depth
Of our faith.
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.
wfosterwelborn 