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Rodeo Clown
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
He ran a gnarled hand
Through silver-streaked hair.
Arthritis caused pain,
Anguish and despair.
This year, he’d quietly
Turned age sixty-two.
His days as a clown
Were long since through.
Memories flooded back,
Playing tag with his mind,
Back through the years
To a much younger time.
Back then, he was the best…
The most agile around.
Someone better with bulls
Just couldn’t be found.
Rubbing his neck idly,
He gave a soft sigh.
Back then, he could rodeo,
Drink and tell lies.
He could jump over a bull’s rump,
Stop him dead in his tracks,
Then turn him aside
With a quick-handed whack.
He’d sure made it look easy.
There was never a school
To teach rodeo clowns
How to handle mean bulls.
Many a hard-riding cowboy
Was thrown high to fall flat.
They owed their health to the clown,
Plus a tip of the hat.
Many of those cowboys,
Rising up from the ground,
Will ride once again,
All thanks to the clown.
He makes it look so easy
While with danger he’ll flirt,
Keeping bull riders
From both injury and hurt.
The next time the rodeo
Comes into your town,
Watch over the action
Of the rodeo clown.
Maybe you’ll see
Another one there,
Running a pain-filled hand
Through his silvery hair.
There’s a twinkle in his eye —
His interest honed keen.
He’s watching the clowns
And the bull riding scene.
He’ll be wearing
An invisible crown
Because once he was king
Of the rodeo clowns.
Wapiti
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
I’ve climbed snow-capped mountains,
Searched lush valleys below.
I’ve trekked through high aspen meadows,
Drinking where hidden streams flow.
I’ve climbed over lofty crags
And walked through wildflower meadows where you roam.
I’ve smelled spruce-laden air
In the untamed beauty you trod and know as home.
I’ve searched when hot and thirsty,
Muscles crying out in pain.
I’ve hunted while wet and hungry
Against your allies, snow and rain.
When matching wits, my hunter’s tricks
Have all seemed to fail,
Yet your courage and strength never falter
As nature helps you prevail.
Each year, aspen trees
Begin wearing coats of red and gold,
When campfires flicker in the mountains
Against night air, crispy cold.
My ears strain to catch a bugle call,
Which splits the clean, clear air.
The mighty stag, Wapiti,
Is moving in his lair.
Yes, I’ll answer his ringing challenge,
For not to respond would cause me pain.
It’s time to once more play hide-and-seek
On his terms, in his terrain.
Leviathan
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Hear then a tale of questionable strategy
Involving a wondrous creature.
Results were almost near tragedy,
Species extinction, Nature’s own sad teacher.
Their existence brings about mixed feelings
As they quietly pass on parade,
Slowly plying changing ocean currents,
Passing near man unafraid.
Gentle and playful, they offer no cause
For unfounded fear or alarm,
Never inflicting pain in their watery domain
While displaying whale-loads of charm.
The solution was always very simple,
Very easy to understand.
You see, while we’re able to travel our oceans,
They’re unable to travel on land.
Then let’s leave these great gentle wonders
In care of Neptune’s safe keep
To breed and play, live and die, peacefully,
Inside blue marvel of their deep.
Pain
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
It hurts! It hurts!
I know it’s pain.
I know! I know!
I’ve been told by my brain.
Through jangled nerves,
The message comes loud and clear.
Eyes will see the flowing red
Which will bring me fear.
Stop the red quickly,
Before life runs its course.
Stop the red! Stop the red!
Stop it at its source.
I’ll send a message back.
I’ll send it up the line
To tell the ole brain quickly,
“Everything is fine.”
See how I cope
With you now, “Ole Pain,”
I’m completely safe
And ouch-less, sane.
I stop the red and shun you,
Completely unafraid.
I’ve discovered a medical miracle —
The ouch-less Band-Aid.
When Love Dies
This poem is from Autumn Leaves:
Words spoken in anger,
Forever enshrined.
Feelings mixed and scattered,
Emotions entwined.
Feelings torn asunder.
Thoughts agitated, grieved.
Words like darts, festering wounds,
Through time unrelieved.
No peace of heart,
Corrosive, eroded…
Flame burned out,
Tranquillity exploded.
Grapes dry out,
Dying on the vine.
Clouds blot the sun,
Pain heals with time.
Beauty of the rose
Fades away and dries,
Like love when it withers,
Is tortured, and dies.
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