Behold this welcome image.
Where a hill rises from a bay.
There a tiny sheltered village lay.
All in the shadow of Windmill Cottage.
Steady breeze most every day.
Sails from afar spill their goodwill.
From their nets sea treasure abound.
Farms thrive above on fertile ground.
Good fortune trickles down the hill.
Sea birds fill the air with sound.
Ancient timbers shade from lofty stage.
Labored grain grows upward at the season’s rate.
Winds howl, warmth’s aglow on the hill top grate.
Flour flows freely down from Windmill Cottage.
Where nature’s breath spins the wheel of a poets estate.
He attends happily to familiar chores.
Quarterly ledgers bulge beneath waistcoat fair.
His quarterly journey to the bankers’ lair.
His shadow alone opens Main Street doors.
Harvest moon will guide homeward the fortunate heir.
Dusk creeps up as day slips by.
Modest and ordered with nothing ablaze.
Must avoid the many scrupulous gaze.
In the shadows inhibitions die.
A visit with strangers, heads all a daze.
Journey’s end in darkness where hill meets bay.
Tufted coaches dash the posh up to their inns.
Others huddle by fire pits drinking homemade gins.
The trades of the night swap those of day.
Church bells echo, atoning for their sins.
Just another blurry face on the wooden shores.
Where the day’s death lingers and ships bells ring.
Taverns fill, ale flows and drunken sailors sing.
Fiddles play and jigs are had on the dirty floors.
Habitual killers all, Oh what joy they bring
Few will stay, most homeward bound.
Some laugh loudly while others cry.
Some will fight, some will die.
In search of peace to be found –
In the deep or endless sky.
Faceless comfort fills empty space.
Men with silver are sick for a day.
Boys with gold suffer years away.
Moonlit romance lingers on perfumed lace.
Then life’s anew beyond the tiny bay.
Sharing much common thread,
In this moment “ brothers all.
Whale lamps flicker on sooty wall
Making friends while breaking bread.
All await the Bosun’s call.
In a corner where shadows overlap.
The poet searches for his light,
Where the day’s brew flows all night.
Safe, for now from his hilltop trap,
Layers of darkness, out of sight.
Behold this most unwelcome image.
The seat no more where the poet presides.
Now in his shadow a filthy little demon hides.
Return not quenched to Windmill Cottage –
And wait again for the new moon tides?
Lonely candle spews depth on a lonely face.
Unseen pests sing their unwanted song,
The scent of time ticking long.
His travels must be many, all left a trace.
In the darkness our senses strong.
Hat brim low to hide his shame.
The poet stutters with utter surprise.
The traveler snickers, doesn’t rise.
With sideways glance he asks the poets name.
Honestly answered by the fear in his eyes.
When after long hesitation a hasty reply ”
“A traveler like you” was all that he said.
But after some ale the silence was dead.
Yard by yard many distant words fly.
Palettes grow when faces shade red.
Cider was next and followed by rum.
The traveler’s tales all told in prose.
The wetter the lips the faster it flows.
Hated by most, loved by some.
That’s how a traveler’s life often goes.
The poet a rather tall fellow.
The traveler a poet by name.
So many ports traveled they all looked the same.
His heart pumped blue, the poet gay and mellow.
Opposite sides of a coin, no one is to blame.
“With little time to hone a craft –
With a draft from an open door.
To close then return no-more.
To open then evermore – the draft.
Spirits gone, gone the craft – nevermore.”
What dribble do you speak my friend?
The poet inquired in disgusted tone.
“The dribble I think when thirsty and alone.”
The traveler quipped with message to send.
I’ll tell you another, that’s my own.
“Silent words are never heard –
The voiceless poet stuttered.
Repeated babble muttered.
His rhymes always sputtered.
More mindless words would be absurd.
The air he breathed was glutted.
His helm so poorly ruddered.
His shirts all heavily buttered.
From his many toasts self-uttered.
His mind so free and uncluttered.
His weaknesses many and unobserved.
Blinded to the Reaper’s shadow – deserved.
Soon the voiceless poet will be unheard.
Then blissful quiet on his paths wandered.
His welcome silence – forever heard.”
Drunken rabble roared with delight.
The poet withered belittled.
The traveler’s attention fizzled.
When laudanum’s sipped out of sight.
The poet escaped most grizzled.
Out of the dark into the night.
Bellowing air; cold, wet and starless.
His poisoned lips know no finesse.
His state of mind out of time – not right.
The poet’s mind wanders aimless.
The traveler tucked snugly in his bunk.
With help from many new joyous fan.
All loved the howls of this traveled Wild-man.
His tales make perfect sense “ drunk.
The favorite carried and the pompous ass ran.
Boot heals clack on cobble slick.
While stallion slumbers atop golden bed.
The poet stumbles upward with achy head.
If only to have his gilt throat-ed stick.
This shadowy path he may be found dead.
The wind that is my fortune is slowly killing me.
This hill of heritage too high for me to climb.
With forceful push from the hands of time.
Drawing me back to a frigid sea.
My misery oh-so great ” it is oh-so sublime.
Head tucked low, bottom up always slow.
Darkness wanes to purples then red.
Day is born, horrors of the night soon dead.
Hands and knees bloodied and bruised – falls of woe.
Alas the bodies of servants to guide to downy bed.
Winter’s behind, graven plans regress.
Fevered sleep past, shadows of death dawdle.
Summer awaits, the poet’s lessons dwindle.
His magnum opus went off to press.
Journey to Main Street, praise to guzzle.
Surveying high atop his magnificent mount.
The poet exclaimed “behold this welcome image”
Deceived by the bustle, not he the homage.
But a tome by a worldly traveler – no doubt.
It was “In the Shadow of Windmill Cottage”
I’ve got nothing to say,
but that’s OK,
maybe again tomorrow.
I’ve no new ideas,
observations or fears,
no places I plan to go.
I’ve got coffee to drink,
a place to think,
but my thoughts a definite no-show.
So I’ll sit and just wait,
it’s never too late,
something will come I know.
With the sun now bright,
I see the light,
words now starting to flow.
My poem’s now done,
it’s silly but fun,
my face’s now all aglow.
So good morning to you,
and whatever you do,
do it with vigor and gusto.
Mornings give light.
Emotion fills night.
Eyes force sight.
Legs flee plight.
Opinions oft slight.
Truth’s never quite.
Souls know right.
Minds will fight.
Hearts feel blight.
Tomorrows bring fright.
Yesterday lends insight.
Fortitude means might.
Sparks do ignite.
Love shines bright.
Hands do write.
Life’s to delight.
In distant lands where wizards wandered,
a time of yore when magicians pondered;
a challenge was made by an illusionist of note,
shrouded in mystery and a long black coat,
The gifted were called to show their great skills.
But the contest prohibited charlatans and shills.
Prizes guaranteed and the winners get gold.
So come, one and all, both young and old.
Signs were posted all over the town.
Flyers distributed by a gal in a gown.
Entertainments galore and food aplenty,
there’s games for all, bet one win twenty.
The festival starts in two weeks’ time,
dancers await with jesters and a mime.
The town square was chosen for its large size.
The old mayor agreed but thought it unwise.
The time finally came and the lines grew long.
Musicians ushered with an enchanting song.
The adults drank heartily and the kids guzzled juice.
The sun was setting and the town felt loose.
Coins flowed freely and senses had a feast.
Scraps could be tossed to the fiercest of beasts.
Wrestlers tangled and the jugglers caught on.
Clowns peddled emotion and one had a swan.
The main event planned for nine on the dot.
Buy tickets early and reserve your spot.
Amazement ensured by the magical guests.
Great talents conjured for their enriching test.
The show started with a man in a hat.
His rabbit disappeared but that was that.
Next, a woman in a bright red cape,
she aimed darts at her husband holding a grape.
She only missed once but that was too much.
But now we know why he walks with a crutch.
The rest of the show was much the same.
Amateurs all whose tricks were all lame.
Last was the illusionist and the crowd all cheered.
But in a big puff of smoke they soon disappeared.
The crowd all clapped but thought there was more.
Was the show over? No one was sure.
The crowd grew feisty and refunds requested.
The contestants were angry and they too protested.
The search was on for this illusionist of note.
A rumor was spread they left with a tote.
Prizes not awarded and vendors unpaid,
workers left hanging and the square’s rent unmade.
The mayor too was missing, a plot was surmised.
Was the mayor the illusionist just well disguised?
Did he steal the money and then disappear?
Or was he a partner and a rank profiteer?
A week soon passed and all hopes grew dim.
Winter was coming and the feeling was grim.
Then on a Tuesday just after sunrise,
the town folk arose to a big surprise.
The mayor returned with the money filled tote,
with him a cat with a long black coat.
The town folk wondered what had he done.
Questions were asked but answers were none.
The mayor was unfazed by their nosy demands.
For those truly wizardly never show their hands.
Just a few words to start the day,
I started late so I’ve not much to say.
The sun’s rising later and my clock’s askew.
I got up too early but there was nothing to do.
So I went back to bed to feel some heat.
I used my cold toes to tickle her feet.
She woke with a shriek from a deep sleep.
She kissed me anyway even though I’m a creep.
Our day’s now begun and started with fun.
Although it’s a bit late it’s not yet one.
Now we’ll share our coffee and plan our day.
What happens next I cannot say.
Electrons float in endless flight.
Space’s gray, no day or night.
Infinity lurks out of sight.
Elements blend or violently clash.
Random moment’s atoms smash.
Fusion bonds fission’s ash.
Core pulls, heat spurred.
Nucleus form, orbits dared.
Love holds a time shared.
With the summer comes the fall.
With the heat the colors call.
With a breeze the leaves afloat,
it’s the season, a chill we’ll note.
Autumn passes to winters white.
With the snow comes a longer night.
With the darkness time will slow.
With our dreams sunshine will glow.
Spring is born to bursting hues.
A rebirth’s given for paying dues.
With this life we’re nature drawn.
With a vision this world we’ll fawn.
With a blink the green consumes.
Our bodies warm, our thought blooms.
Days awaken to skies of blue.
With the sunset comes dawn anew.
Vacation’s soon and I can’t wait.
On the calendar mark the date.
Planning and dreaming all long year
Soon our vacation will be here.
I started to pack weeks before.
A few clothes and toys galore.
I need a lot for our long stay.
But mom repacks it anyway.
Alarm didn’t work, taxi was late.
With seconds left we made the gate.
Sat in the plane with no fresh air.
Waiting for bad weather to clear.
Hours wasted then off we fly.
Wings wobble, we bounce in gray sky.
Black night rain, runway wet and slick.
Vacation starts, we all get sick.
We landed late our luggage not there.
Just full of clothes, I didn’t care.
Late night taxi cost us double,
Big tip needed for his trouble.
Get to our rooms, sun starts to rise.
Daylight’s wasted with closed eyes.
Day one of vacation’s now done,
Hope the next six will be more fun.
But first a shower then some rest.
Than out for breakfast that’ll be best,
Eggs and juice, toast with warm butter.
Opened the door our hearts flutter.
Toilets broke, no shower at all.
A sign on door said tub down hall.
Beds were unmade, hot water cool.
Mom’s mad, dad joked about the pool.
We went to the lobby to protest.
Stood in the line with all the rest.
The man at the desk did all he could.
Some of the guests didn’t treat him good.
Threw down his pen, could take no more.
Grunting and shouting ran for the door.
“Hotel closed” he said running out.
Leaving us stranded, all in doubt.
Where would we go, where would we stay?
Yet another bad vacation day.
We found a place, it wasn’t cheap.
But we needed a place to sleep.
Cramped and dark but at least clean.
The tiniest bathroom I’d ever seen.
Just two beds, no TV at all.
One small window looked at a wall.
Settling in to rest our eyes.
Then off to lunch in clear blue skies.
But halfway there it starts to rain.
My jackets gone, left on the plane.
We ran fast to a place nearby.
Sitting soaked on stools too high.
Fish only menu, not for me.
Hours passed drinking pop, refills free.
Bellies bloated, day spent.
The sun came out and down it went.
Saw a movie we saw before.
Back to our rooms, locked the door.
Much the same the rest of the week.
Sun came out once, we caught a peek.
Went to the beach, waters to cold.
A bad vacation getting old.
Good news came later that week.
Luggage found but in Chesapeake.
Put back on plane, soon to leave there.
They’ll be back late, we won’t be here.
Trip soon over saw a new place.
Lots of ant bites, rash on my face.
Dad lost his watch, mom caught a bug.
Stuffed plastic bags with things to lug.
Our ride to the airport, not much fun.
Stuck in traffic in the noon day sun.
Bad vacation was had this year.
Being home soon is all I care.
One good part of a trip gone bad.
Is getting home and being glad.
Vacations done, better next year.
You go and have fun, I’ll stay here.
In these changing times,
minds cannot stay still.
Violence spreads like wildfire,
testing our strength and will.
Thought’s our only guide,
misguided we are lost.
Shooting from the hip,
destruction is the cost.
Love is shared by all,
hearts beat their choice.
Hate is the divider,
drowning out our voice.
High upon a tightrope,
this world can feel small.
Balance is required,
the option is we fall.
Daddy, daddy come quick and see.
There are big eyes staring at me.
In the window there, can you see?
It’s a kitty looking back at me.
Please can we keep her, can we please?
I’ll wash her good if there are fleas.
We gave her some milk on a plate.
It seemed like hours I had to wait.
Then mom came home, was kitty there?
Yes! – She’s napping on the porch chair.
Mom and dad had a little chat.
They called me in and there I sat.
Hoped to hear we have a new pet.
“First” they said “a trip to the vet”
“Vet” I said “whatever is that?”
They said “a doctor for your cat.”
Found a box, she fit just right.
Curled in a towel ” out of sight.
Into the car and off we go.
To a new place I didn’t know.
Never been to a vet before.
Many new things behind the door.
There’s lots of cats and dogs of course.
But shocked to see a tiny horse.
Saw a snake and a talking bird.
Said some words I’ve never heard.
The vet was fun just like the zoo.
But I was glad when we were through.
We brought her home, she disappeared.
Hid under the bed like mom feared.
To get her out we had a plan.
Gave her some tuna from a can.
That didn’t work, mom tried a trick.
She tied some yarn on a long stick.
I wiggled the yarn on the floor.
We saw a paw and then two more.
Next was a tail than furry head.
Now she’s out from under my bed.
Gave her a scratch as she ran past.
To the new food she ate too fast.
We gave her some time to explore.
She made a big mess on the floor.
Dad cleaned it up, almost got sick.
Mom finished the job; I said “Ick!”
And when done we all had a laugh.
Thankful our cat wasn’t a calf.
Then made a list for a quick shop.
A litter box was at the top.
Boxes and bags of this and that,
Much was needed for our new cat.
While we were out dad took a nap.
Our new kitty curled on his lap.
She woke with a stretch and a purr.
Licking her paws and stripey fur.
Dad woke next and was surprised.
By his new friend’s big sleepy eyes.
He cuddled her close, scratched her ears.
Mom smiled, I thought I saw tears.
Then we all had a good giggle.
Watching kitty twist and wiggle.
Mom picked her up, gave her a hug.
Put her down gently on the rug.
The cutest thing I ever did see.
But what to call my new kitty?
She’ll be Alesha, our cat “A”.
Like in the book I read today.
By a doctor who wrote fun rhymes.
I’ve read them all oodles of times.
Now’s time to sleep, our day is done.
I hope tomorrows just as fun.
Tucked in bed, Alesha and me.
Soon to dream of little cat “B”.
Available at: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468855
A new year begins with the start of school.
The days will be busy and our evenings cool.
Jackets we’ll need for our trips to the beach.
Sunsets we’ll miss, they’ve much to teach.
Time brings change as the seasons show.
With seeds now planted our love will grow.
I was out to lunch this early fall,
with my sweetheart, disturbed by a call.
Tried not to answer, boss wouldn’t wait.
“Go to the harbor”, he yelled, “before it’s too late”.
Duty calls, I sped to the pier,
swerved through traffic as fast as I dare.
Screeched to a halt at the dock by the bay,
the boat’s motors revved then underway.
Holding on tight I asked what’s the fuss?
The skipper pointed up at the blob over us.
It was big and gray, no particular form,
battered and tattered like a dingy in a storm
It hung from balloons, one at each end,
letting air out slowly to descend.
It kissed the calm harbor with hardly a swell.
A slit appeared then a putrid smell.
Followed by a ladder of rope dropped to the sea,
then an old head popped out “Ahoy thar matey.”
We climbed aboard the blob that fell from the sky.
Inside appeared to be a ship with no sails but masts high.
A portal to the past or future, it wasn’t clear.
My eyes wide open, couldn’t fathom what’s near.
Bos’n whistle blowing, ships bell ringing,
Captain’s on deck, old sailors singing.
Adrift in time for many a year,
brass shone bright, decks scrubbed bare.
Beards grown long, spirits grown weak,
searching endlessly for the end they seek
I asked many questions and he of I.
“How did you come to fall from the clear blue sky?”
He shrugged and answered “balloons in the sun.”
He asked how the war went; I said “you won”
Pleased by the news, great joy was abound.
The captain and crew, spirits were found.
We told him our location, name and job.
He told us the story of his great flying blob.
“I built her to survey the rogue enemy.
Launched in the spring, eighteen sixty-three.
But she rose too quickly and at too fast a pace.
Caught in a current and thrust into space.
She’s wrapped in layers of thick blubber.
Fin of spruce to serve as rudder.
A ship out of water floating in space,
propelled by methane made from our waste.
And in her belly the mighty tree grew;
wood for repairs, air for the crew.
Trimmed to perfection, nurtured with care,
the trees demise is all that we fear.”
“The tree is the living when all else seems dead.
Greens for the birds then eggs we are fed.
Twigs feed the fires for heat and our light,
the roots of survival the engine of flight.”
The captain paused for word from the mate.
A decision to make before it’s too late.
The blubber was oozing in the midday sunlight,
absorbing seawater, soon too heavy for flight.
He called out the order to make all lines taut.
Bid us farewell and shared one last thought.
“No matter how far our souls may roam –
the journeys not over until we are home.”
The blob sailed off high in the sky –
then disappeared in the blink of an eye.
The captain and crew homeward at last,
seeing the future, choosing and the past.
Where rocky cliff meets stormy sea,
a castle perched, forever be.
Where gray stone surrounds little seen sky.
‘Twas this fortress a young princess cry.
The princess post birth, her parents delight,
treasured by day, guarded by night.
Feasting with jesters, ponies, puppets and maids,
a gaggle of servants draw bright velvet shades
With sentry of knight to share all her dreams,
her eyes shut tight to hide her screams.
Time wasted limitless, she wished for an end.
The princess was lonely without a true friend.
One morning awoken by a kiss from a queen,
sleepy eyes opened to a sight seldom seen.
Golden light sparkles in diamond pane rare,
a sapphire morn burns black coal night air.
A tasty breakfast served on tray in bed.
Downy pillows fluffed to rest her head.
The king arrived more jolly than ever,
with riddle to solve, if anyone clever.
“What may have wings cannot fly.
Holds a heart yet cannot die.
Shaken pitch laughs off rain.
Having one a princess to gain?”
The joyous young girl made many a guess.
The kings’ piddling patience grew less and less.
The queen and knights all had a try.
The king muttered “castle!” with a loud sigh.
The room bemused by the riddler’s zeal.
Most unconcerned with how others feel.
A castle repeated in more pleasant a tone,
a home for a princess to call her own.
But first a short trip outside the wall,
where grass tickles feet and trees grow tall.
There are lessons to learn from tutors wise.
There are truths to see with growing eyes.
Now’s time a princess must prepare,
for the eventual call of a prince to be dear.
A someday king awaits his throne,
whence you shall rest upon your own.
The princess knew the day would come,
a bartered prize as was her Mum.
No fairy tale endings for spawn of kings.
“Tis a life shackled with heavy gold rings.
Adventure awaits, no time for self-pity,
freedom’s short locked in a stone city.
Knowledge abounds beyond heavy gates.
The princess skips past on worn ancient slates.
Beneath a fine bonnet of satin and lace,
excitement glowed on her adolescent face.
Her velvet shoes barely touching the dirt,
a merry cyclone a-swirl in silk skirt.
Her mentor soon waves from path by wood.
Magical flora beckons, some bad, some good.
Wonders overwhelm in green forest lush.
An ocean of emeralds painted with brush.
With each lash a-flutter bursts a new color.
Light and shades multiply them all more.
With the thirst of a sponge she did explore,
where surprises abound when not looked for.
A gentle breeze blew, a little leaf flew,
bright sky filled in the space anew
A ray of sunlight kissed a shiny stone.
Atop a bed of dewy leaf it rests alone.
With a tiny tap upon its shimmering side,
the distant fates of two collide.
Surface cracking on this egg thought stone,
a heartbeat wakened with thunderous tone.
Out popped a plump lump, beneath wings of scale.
A pat on the rump exposed its long tail.
A final stretch thrust shell shards to leaf.
And there lie a creature beyond belief.
Warm smiles shared with a new friend.
A precious little pearl, the girl’s to defend.
The gazes shattered by a howl from the trail,
‘twas the elderly teacher, impatient and frail.
The princess knew what had to be done.
The babe hid under her bonnet and bun.
Down the path she ran back to the gate.
Yelled to the guards “The teacher was late”
Gates barely open she slipped through the crack,
escaping notice of the tail down her back.
Safe in her chamber they shared the night’s meal,
both sharing puckers with fresh lemon peel.
Then swathed in plush robes, kissed on the head,
the fledgling was tucked safely under the bed.
Each night passing, more robes to conceal,
this teething tot with big teeth that’s real.
Each day growing from the princess’s scraps,
she grew thinner, now padded with straps.
The servants grew nervous at both the sight,
one lie near weightless, one flew in the night.
The princess’s secret though soon was known,
when her expanding friend went out alone.
The knights became dazed by armored flight,
their swords no match for the hunger of night.
The king and queen where too nearly maimed.
Pawns, bishops and rooks where all to be blamed.
A wizard was called to tame the toddler beast.
His tenure cut short when almost a feast.
The creature now huge, truly loved the girl.
She called her Sunshine, the princess’s Pearl.
Together they frolicked on the castle rooftop.
The king spying danger called for a stop.
Shouting “time’s come to put childhood behind,
It’s now time to marry, I’ve someone in mind.
He’s brave, sweet, wise and kind, at least I’m told.
There’ll be time to adjust as you both grow old.”
Escorted by king to a royal coach and four,
off to be locked behind another gilded door.
Her fate was sealed by a noble families need,
alliances grown with common regal seed.
But with a twist, jerk and a naughty giggle,
the squiggly princess was free now to wiggle.
Breaking free, running fast, past all unaware.
She zigged and zagged toward the rooftop stair.
Screaming loudly for her only friend Pearl,
who tried to save the much pursued girl.
A guard with a pike held Pearl on a chain.
Blocking the Sunshine’s escape of the reign.
Seeing her friend at the top of the stair,
Pearl snapped her links then into the air.
The petrified guard fled from his post,
grabbing for Sunshine he’d surely be toast.
The princess ran to the edge of the roof,
yelling to Pearl, she feared aloof.
The big eared beast sharply turned about,
hearing her Sunshine’s gloomy shout
The king with guards, knights and queen,
Stormed to the roof unprepared for what’s seen.
The princess looked back, blew a kiss to her mother,
and a warm thoughtful wave to all the other.
Then with a carefree step she disappeared.
Plunging to her sudden death, or so was feared.
The mortified lookers all lunged for the ledge.
Hoping the princess landed safe in a hedge.
The king peeked over, not wanting to see,
when up rose his honey like a big bumble bee.
She hung from the neck of her dear friend Pearl,
now bonded for life, this dragon and girl.
Higher she climbed with a dragons eye view,
a view to be viewed by a very small few.
Now all surveyed, now all her realm,
Sunshine’s the captain, Pearl the helm.
Over forest and mountains, ocean and stream,
free in a world where she need not dream.
Adrift on her Pearl upon the endless sea,
Alone they now be in their realm of fantasy.
The king broken hearted wept in his sleep.
The queen stricken ill with never a peep.
They later agreed to bare a new heir,
whether girl or boy was not a care.
The next child’s fate was sure to be better,
born free of mind and trappings that clutter.
With a loving heart nurtured by family and friends,
then given the choices to choose their own ends.
The princess returned in time for the birth.
The kingdom was full of merriment and mirth.
The princess enchanted with a friend who flew.
And all ends happily as fairy tales all do.
Outside my window perched in a tree
Tis a winged demon that caws at me
At me it caws and caws all day
Till darkness consumes then caws go away
Tis then a candle lit, awaiting peace
Creative spark await release
The hourly chime hourly chides
This spark within creatively hides
Searching I pace in this tiny room
From shadow to shadow returning to gloom
Going in circles around in a square
Till wearily I slump back into my chair
Through random lacy limbs I spy the moon
With gentle breezes the patterns I swoon
Patterns swooning dance on dingy walls
The net surrounds and the demon calls
Consciousness concedes, silence relieves
In the dark the dark the mind believes
Rest and wait or rise and scream
Choices few at the edge of a dream
Wax drippings lapping pages bled
Of serpentine spine and heavy head
Blackness cloaks the demons night
Their quills aplenty shade the light
Demon, oh demon please let me be
Yet still they tap, tapping for me
Tap tap tapping on my foggy pane
Tap, tap tapping with no refrain
Without refrain demons tap in kind
Tapping demons tap, tapping my mind
Is this tapping, tapping to remind?
Or is it tapping to seek and find?
Oh demon cloaked with hidden face
To take from you is my disgrace
Your gifts adored left on my sill
Yet to rest on your back I am still
To be only still is reverse
Dive or fall, a lover’s curse
To soar or sink is to immerse
The spirit wishes to guide the verse
This spirit and I of common goal
Each to rise from the hole
One to fly, one to scratch and claw
Each may fall, one to caw, caw, caw
Our bond’s made to find a link
If to trade my soul I wish to think
I wish to think another’s ink
Of golden quills and wine to drink
In gilded glass I wish to wink
Then step away until I shrink
Till all is gone with a blink
But for the ink, I wish to think
I think I think, I think I see
I think I see light shines on me
Sight and sound now distortion free
The path’s clear toward tranquility
If to be a final rest, now’s to be the time
Drifting in an open mind is to be sublime
Or if to rise and most joyfully find
I’ve awakened as a different kind
To be warm of heart and cool of mind
Forward moving and never behind
Of filigree hands to align and chime
Tis then the taps return, tapping in time
Taps on the window from arms of the past
To embrace their grip the future’s cast
When cracks appear in my shield of glazing
The demon swoops for the dawns hazing
With inky beak and beating wings
Caw, caw, caw the demon sings
They dance upon the empty pages
Quills ablaze their fire rages
Then morning breaks the lidded seal
Illuminating all thought real
Am I to be taken or to consume?
Or wake to sunlight returning to gloom
Betwixt the shadows exposed by the light
Tis demons craft conjured last night
With nary a blotch nor stroke askew
Flawless leaf scribed by I know not who
I dare not share these words unknown
Through my window they have flown
The prize of demons cawing in a tree
Thus return I must this gift given me
I woke today in a fog.
But autumn’s now in view.
There’ll be more days of sky high temps,
though fortunately just a few.
My body’s burned with a patchwork tan,
the grass a patchwork of brown.
Smiles await bluer skies,
but for now I’ve still a frown.
Perhaps today I’ll write a poem,
better than those before.
I used to say that every day,
but now I’m not so sure.
Like the seasons, time does change,
creativity comes and goes.
Inspiration’s all around,
but negativity grows and grows.
I need a cool crisp morning,
with leaf of red and gold.
Though summers can be wonderful,
this one’s getting old.
Maybe it’s just a fantasy,
thinking words will find their way.
Maybe the fantasy’s over,
of being joyous every day.
Peering up from my lap,
I see the fog starting to clear.
Though my paper is still blank,
I know a story’s near.
My eyes now wide open,
my pencil’s sharp and new.
Optimistically I scribble a word,
the clouds now but few.
One word turns to another,
a third leads to a line.
Verses soon will follow,
and again the day is mine.
I’m glad this patchwork is over.
And I’m sure that you are too.
I’m thankful for your time today,
my inspiration being you.
Time for time-out it’ll end soon.
Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.
She’s had it since her wedding day.
Used just for holidays, not play.
I said that it was shaped just right,
to dig a trench where armies can fight.
Needs to be deep but not too wide.
Had to dig fast so they can hide.
Buried far down just like a tomb.
Guarding treasure found in your room.
Found in a box high on a chest.
It’s the booty pirates like best.
I must protect those shiny things:
chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.
Hid them good, remembered the map.
But then forgot after my nap.
To help me dig I found a pet.
The best digger there is I’ll bet.
Finished our yard then went next door.
Found nothing, ran off to dig more.
Chased our cat high up in the tree.
Grandma called the police for me.
Her nurse had to help make the call.
The police came, that isn’t all.
While chasing his dog that I found,
the man fell from holes in the ground.
He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.
I said it was his dog, not me.
His face was red, limping away.
But grandma’s heart will be okay.
And I have some more good news.
While digging today, I wore no shoes.
They’re nice and clean and tucked away.
I’ll try no pants some other day.
Though mess was made with my bare feet,
I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.
Pushed all the water out the door.
Then to your room, I cleaned some more.
Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.
I luckily then found the bleach.
You’ll smile when you turn on the light.
I know you like things clean and white,
with spots of color here and there.
You’ll surely hug your little dear.
I’m glad you’re home early today.
Don’t believe what the neighbors say.
The rescue came, Dad’s all right.
Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.
Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.
I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.
I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.
Fix the chair dad broke with his back.
He climbed too high to find his keys,
lost his balance from wobbly knees.
I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.
Then found soldiers under my bed.
Recalled the mission to be done.
Ran downstairs to start the fun.
Found no spoons not already bent.
But then found yours and out I went.
And that’s where my story began.
Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.
I know that time-outs hurt you too.
But when it’s done I’ll still love you.
Summer’s at its end, no paths leading home,
memories haunt, hunger leads wherever he does roam.
The hazy starlight setting, the sun’s ready to rise.
A frightened little orphan wipes dreams from sleepy eyes.
Soon the bells will ring calling all’s return.
The timid sure to flounder, the hardy always earn.
Darting through the alleys, the bay comes in view.
Ships aplenty ply the piers promising something new.
Upon these docks seabirds feast,
sharing the waste with all other beast.
Flies swarm, rats persist and hungry dogs bark.
There are many unseen faces lurking in the dark.
Survivors all, as is he, sharing the spoils of a bountiful sea,
no masters’ switch or mothers’ screams when a life is free.
Two pockets and a mouth full will feed for a day.
Fancy cord or carved wood may even bring some pay.
Scavenging for a morsel, a meal comes in sight.
Tis crated fruits from afar, a taste of pure delight.
Brushing off the larvae and peeling rotted skin,
sweet sensations pass the lips, a smile grows within.
Then giggles gurgled from his blissful throat.
Till greed consumes and bellies bloat.
Euphoria swells and inhibitions subside.
The bustle begins there’s no need to hide.
While hunger had made his mind alert.
Gluttony now makes his body inert.
Guard lowered, feet slow to run,
this young boys’ journey’s now just begun.
Sailors seized the well fed thief.
Then shackled aboard to ease their grief,
a gift for the captain from his loyal crew.
A cabin boy’s needed, there’s much to do.
Soon underway and far from land,
the mate unlocks the orphans’ hand.
The boy then runs toward sun and air.
On deck he cries watching land disappear.
Formalities scant then forced to chores,
His long nights stowed behind locked doors.
They voyaged south where weather’s warm,
when the waters grew bumpy ahead of a storm.
The captain commanded his capable crew.
And the boy was forgotten with so much to do.
The bright sun fell with the dark rising sea.
Freedom escapes when nowhere to flee.
The howling winds and roaring waves,
called heroes and fools to watery graves.
The skipper stood bravely at his battered helm,
barking out orders to all in his realm.
He called for his servant to secure a line tight.
The boy climbed too high, falling into the night.
The bosons’ pipe blew and bells rang out,
muffling the sounds of the orphans last shout.
The boy sank fast with his final breath.
When suddenly snatched by the jaws of death.
In a cage of tooth and tongue for seat,
waiting was he to be something’s treat
Swimming as fast as ever she could,
the serpent’s intensions were soon understood.
Diving through darkness then leaps in the air.
A long journey had, till the weather was fair.
He awoke on a beach, the serpent close by.
Being baked in hot sand to be eaten and die.
Before he could run the beast came near.
She patted his head and said “Have no fear.”
She gazed into his scared little eyes.
Assuring him serpent myths were lies.
“We’re not all monsters or killers you see,
though maybe a few but certainly not me.”
“Serpents get angry when harpoons fly their way,
or when dragged ashore for a tasty fillet.
Bounties are had that pay by the pound,
riches await when a big serpents found.”
The new friends chatted the rest of the day.
They shared their pasts till no more to say.
Dozing they snuggled on a bed of soft leaf,
dreaming of a life without any grief.
Wakened to sunshine and breakfast pre-made.
The grinning pair feasted on greens in the shade.
Then time for a swim in their private lagoon.
They frolicked together till the rising full moon.
Days and weeks then years soon past,
the happy young boy was growing fast.
The pair traveled the oceans and faraway lands,
their life’s serene with no demands.
They ate and slept and played on a whim,
till the boy grew curious of others like him.
He asked many questions, to the serpent unknown,
her boy a young man, now twice grown.
His name, he had none, he could recall.
He was always called boy and that was all.
The serpent, a serpent, there’s no need for a name.
The boy called her mum just the same.
The wise serpent knew their time couldn’t last,
The boy’s now a man and still growing fast.
Mum was ashamed of keeping the boy,
to coddle and cuddle and treat like a toy.
They played together, she watched him grow,
all the time knowing he’d eventually go.
A plan was hatched she couldn’t admit.
If her boy found out he’d have a fit.
She would swim close to shore then into the bay.
She’d crash on the beach for her boy’s big payday.
A hero he’d be and rewarded a bounty vast.
But she had to be quick for her nerve to last.
The day was perfect and the sky was clear.
Boy was napping when land came near.
The plan underway, Mum turned the last bend.
The town grew closer, her life soon to end.
Flapping her flippers as fast as she could,
splashes seen as she knew they would.
With one last thrust she lunged for the land.
The boy awakened when thrown to the sand.
The town folk scattered, guards quick to arrive.
None had seen a serpent alive.
Bruised and battered the boy came to.
Quickly he knew what he had to do.
He knew his friend would have a plan.
The boy’s time was now to be a man
Fearlessly facing his many foes,
standing with mum to shield their arrows.
He called for the general to make a deal.
“Spare your feasts now for many a meal.
Or a battle we will have with much to lose.
Life or death sir is for you now to choose.”
The general perplexed requested his king.
A long hour past, mum started to sing.
The crowds joined in and fears were eased.
The deal was sealed and all were pleased.
The general was spared potential bloodshed.
The serpent was spared her intelligent head.
The boy made an admiral though a scant crew,
with a fleet of just one and we all know who.
His beloved town prospered, called the boy Beau.
Replacing the name he didn’t know.
Beau got married, had many a young.
The eldest’s in a band with a grand mum who sung.
There’ll be no time for play today.
Because today’s adventure day.
We’re off to clean grandma’s shed.
Door so low dad bumps his head.
Lots of stuff for us to see.
Each thing has its own history.
There’s: rakes, shovels, mowers and pails,
Tires and wheels, old boat sails.
A big and rusty nut-less bolt
And a shoe for a shoe-less colt,
Sleds and skis, skates, paddles and oars,
Broken windows and old wood doors.
Crates and bins, barrels and jars,
guitar made from box of cigars,
Dad’s reaching for things up high.
Mom thumbs a scrapbook, tear in eye.
The treasure’s you find when you look;
cushion for chair and long lost book,
toy box from when dad was a kid
with missing hinge and broken lid.
I had to put that one aside.
To fill with treasure that I’ll hide.
And keep it safe for mom and dad
with memories, adventures had.
Sheds empty, our jobs half way.
Sifting and sorting all long day.
Next are lunch and maybe a nap.
Then spend some time on grandma’s lap.
To the street go things we don’t use;
hand less clock and half pair of shoes.
Forgotten treasures go away.
Some I’ll keep while others will stay.
It’s grandma’s play house in the shade.
But in the yard five piles we made.
One to save, two we don’t know,
one’s maybe, the small one can go.
So many things for grandma to do,
when our shed adventure is through .
She can paint pictures or pot plants,
maybe yoga – go in a trance.
A final sweep and all is clean.
The nicest shed I’ve ever seen.
Now’s time to put back things to keep.
All stacked neat, not too high or deep.
The dust is gone that made us sneeze.
But no space left for new hobbies.
Dads hurt his back, moms tummy aches.
From our lunch of burgers and shakes.
But grandma’s happy and me too.
We’re all glad the mission is through.
Our adventure had, job well done.
Memories made of having fun.
Dad’s old chest safe under my bed.
Memories tucked safe in my head.
And now’s time to say goodnight.
Adventure’s done, out goes the light.
The clouds clearing, the sun is felt.
My icy heart has begun to melt.
Love has warmed, time to grow.
A kiss awaits this I know.
My future slumbers, I quietly rise.
Starlight twinkles in my eyes.
The mirror greets a smiling face.
The fog’s lifted without a trace.
Her day will start with a hug.
She’ll pull me closer, nice and snug.
A plan we’ll make for another day.
But in this moment we’ll always stay.
With the first bird tweet before sunrise
An eager young fairy opened her eyes
Impatient she was to explore a new day
To discover new things, have fun and play
Silently venturing from the hollow of her tree
Taking the leap to be fluttering free
She soared through the dark above the treetops
Seeing first the sun shine on morning bunny hops
Reaching new heights she dove for the green
There twisting and turning through branch barely seen
She then came to a stop with forest floor near
Where she sat on a twig spying something unclear
The rays of dawn peaked betwixt shadowed leaf
A lone beam shone on a nest wove beyond belief
Twas silken hung with shimmers and wiggles
Whence out pops a butterfly to bright eyes and giggles
The pair swiftly flew off, with each a new friend
A flight of fancy they hoped without end
Their forest was waking from the dark of night
Ferns were unfurling to welcome the light
Morning blossoms blooming’s a colorful treat
Dew drop reflections fragrantly sweet
The bumble bee’s buzz in search they roam
Lady bugs lingering wished to be home
Crickets stopped chirping, they’re done for the day
The squirrels and chipmunks have come out to play
Frolicking freely time quickly passed by
Their world growing smaller the higher they fly
Sensing danger circling above
The butterfly thought a game the fairy would love
For his instinct foretold of a life to be short
All else he knew the fairy had taught
He said “wait down below, I’ll hide and you seek”
“But count to a thousand before you peek.”
The adventurous fairy dove quick for the wood
The brave butterfly flew higher than was good
Counting’s completed, now’s time to discover
She opened her eyes while humming birds hover
She asked of them if a butterfly was seen
One with big wings of red, yellow and green
The little birds knew not of his hiding place
Sadness now shaded the young fairy’s face
She searched high and low, both left and right
Her sight’s now shrinking in falling sunlight
Shadows grow longer with the moons turn to rise
A blanket of stars soon covered sleepy eyes
The quiet night passing, she dreamt of her tree
And the nightmare had unprepared to be free
Awakening again to a song she knows well
Birds summon the sun as the pale moon fell
The fairy sat patient on a stump by a stream
Butterfly! Oh butterfly she did loudly scream
The butterfly didn’t hear her mournful cry
Though the echo carried through valley and sky
Her parents did hear their lost child’s voice
Soon by her side they all did rejoice
The young fairy’s joy soon returned to tears
She spoke of the butterfly and of her fears
Her parents assured her he lost his way
But would surely return somehow, someday
The family swiftly flew back to their cozy home
A place shared with others in a honey comb
The fairy now waves to the butterflies, they in return
For keeping friends close is what she did learn
My little town is changing,
the old folks are moving away.
Little kids are moving back,
now there’s screaming every day.
The houses too are changing,
paint jobs have gone awry.
Gone the regard for history,
the zip code is now the why.
Perhaps I too am changing,
my future being soon elsewhere.
While life forever changes,
what remains was always there.
There are parts of her I’ve yet to kiss.
But all will be found and none I’ll miss.
Her lips well covered her face always more,
her neck I long to further explore.
Her lobes enjoyed and nibbled much.
Her body quivers to my gentle touch.
Passion ensues and intuition guides.
New destinations found as my tongue glides.
Her response is felt on my warm lips,
whilst hands caress her soft round hips.
The kissing proceeds from her head to toes.
But parts in-between I shan’t expose.