Tuesday, November 29, 2011

I would say

The leaves have fallen now to ground
in Seattle’s wonderland
and the clouds in mourning I would say
for what once was beautiful.

There was a reach and stretch
outward from the deep within
toward the unattainable
not perceived as such.

It was thought perhaps or maybe felt
the worthwhile surely couldn’t stay
far beyond love’s full display
of leaves on every tree.

But there was no meeting half-way
                and the leaves had nowhere else to go
but down, down, down, onto the land
to lie as dead, dead, dead.

They are dead!  They are dead
and the people simply walk on by
unmindful of that reach and stretch
that folded in upon itself.

So when the leaves lie on the ground
don’t look above for cloud support
because they cry, oh, how they cry
in mourning I would say!

Sunday, November 27, 2011


The rain is gentle o’er this land
that awaits in silent solitude
the overturn of what was once
accepted without grace.

Love is grand; oh, yes it is
but it’s like it must be made anew
and fashioned to remain in vogue
longer than I can foretell.

It’s the stitch of grace within the seams
and the knowledge that it’s there
that grants the words of “I love you”
their glow of permanence.

Grace, yes, grace - how beautiful
is love inlaid with grace!

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A spell or more

Time, time, and again, my eyes are pulled
off centre from my focused view
and they’re held there for a spell or more
to make me think of not going back.

The message is clear; don’t look where you will
but see how the world really is
for that spell or more that you are held
where you’d rather not be.

So I look for a spell and sometimes the more
and you could  say I stare mindlessly
into the caverns of space  
but I’m in a space of mindlessness
in order to find my way back
from the world as it really is!

Thursday, November 17, 2011


When the point of truth comes crashing down
into the light of day
the hole it leaves is greater than
one could ere believe.

Truth grows, you see, according to
the spin I put on it
and the angle I view it from
when it first appears.

And then of course I dress it down,
make it what it’s not,
and dress it up to transform it
into something grand.

‘tis circumstance, I bet it is,
that decrees dressed up or down
but to be free I much prefer
casual with no tie.

Casual truth?  Yes, casual truth
sits easy on the back
and allows for my comfort
from yesterday into today!

Tuesday, November 8, 2011


The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog and ran to the shade of an old oak tree.  There he lay down and looked at the clouds like a gazer into other lands and he was still that time beneath all that lay above. 

What did he see?  I asked, I asked, but the quick brown fox was also lazy and nothing could stir his complacency there in his comfort zone.  I stood on my head, I did, I did, and this brought the ghost of a smile because the ghost, you see, of who he really is, paid a visit that time down to earth.  I didn’t know then that he wasn’t the truth but a harbourer of someone else that he neither knew nor cared to greet in the land of the far down under.

So the quick brown fox now grown lazy waited his time to be plucked from there beneath an old oak tree and transported down to the sea but everyone knows, they do, they do, that the sea doesn’t beckon the lazy.  One must be awake and energized to dare look on that awesome sight and be open and welcoming of its energy so the now very lazy brown fox looked around for further options.

Lo and behold, no drop-down box or fairies in the glen, or angels sitting on clouds, or poets speaking out loud and, indeed, there simply was nothing and no-one keeping company with one very lazy brown fox.  I thought it a shame but then, but then, the fox chose to rest beneath trees and who are the angels, fairies, the poets, and pre-programmed drop-down boxes to come between foxes and trees?

You’ll see the fox there, today, today, but as for the ghost of a smile I guess you’ll see it now in the tears flowing unbidden out of his eyes because, because, the quick brown fox jumped over and then became lazy!

Saturday, November 5, 2011

The past

Like a model on a catwalk
the past meandered by
and, oh, it was an awesome sight
dressed as it was
in many memories.

It moved and swayed and sparkled
like a diamond in the rough
and caught my reflection
in each and every shimmer.

And as it disappeared
behind the drapes of present times
I mourned no more its leaving
and cried no tears of loss.

And so when the past
walks down the catwalk
‘tis just a time to clap and cheer
then leave the auditorium!