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!

Grace

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!

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!

Truth

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!

Test

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!

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!