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Bethlehem
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Oh, so still is the night,
Peaceful, yet hushed in quiet,
And bathed in a single star’s light,
Oh, Bethlehem!
Time gives a greater Light birth
That will shine throughout the Earth,
Though hosting this event — not by whim,
Remembered forever, Bethlehem!
Time does not stand still for man,
Endless hourglass measures sand,
Remembering again David’s stem,
Born in you, Bethlehem.
Many years ago and far away,
We still celebrate that day,
A Light that darkness cannot dim…
A Savior born in you, Oh, Bethlehem.
Timeless
This poem is in Autumn Leaves:
Peace be with you,
My thoughts unwind,
But…I knew you elsewhere,
From a distant time.
Though it seems but yesterday,
Still it’s been a long, long while,
Something hauntingly familiar,
My thoughts beguile.
Memories sometimes lapse,
But time cannot disguise,
I believe it was your smile,
Not your laughing eyes.
No words spoken here,
Nor lofty man-made towers.
Simple use of thought exchange —
No clock to chime the hours.
Corridors of time are hazy.
Dust covers her ancient fold.
Recollections thwart and tease
In this timeless mold.
Pardon my intrusion
Into your hallowed space.
Forgive my poor conclusion,
But…I never forgot your face.
Timeless memories the past can blur,
Yet never to erase
Our footprints o’er paths we walked,
Another time…another place.
Thoughts we shared, flowers touched,
As we made our way.
Soft words exchanged, feelings passed,
Fragrance lingering where we lay.
Enraptured by you still,
Forever I’ll repose.
Would you linger her a while,
My spiritual, timeless rose?
My Dream
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
I dreamt of hunting buffalo
And long grass shimmering in the sun.
I saw cold, crystal clear mountain streams,
With its banks bordered by wild flowers.
Away up high, almost a speck against the light blue sky,
A bald eagle surveys his realm.
Although it’s spring time in my dream,
The distant, hazy, purple mountains
Still wear their caps of white.
The air is clean and fresh
And filled with the smell of growing things.
The white-trunked aspens
Keep sentinel in their quiet beauty.
Life is simple but hard.
Man fulfilled his dreams by the strength of his hand,
Sweat from his brow, and cunning of his mind.
He became one with his surroundings.
The world was sustained by natural order,
And it was good.
When I awoke,
I realized that I’m but a dinosaur
Transplanted into a modern time and world.
Dreamwalk
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.
