Poetry

A few samples circa 1975

Feeling

It haunts--
Like a mirage under the desert sun--
Distracting me of thoughts
To where it had begun.

So long ago,
I know not when I first felt it,
But now it broods on my mind
Never to forget.

It nigh affects in me
A passionate desire
To grant my life
To its unceasing torrid fire.

I long to kneel before its glow
I long to feel it in my hands
And as it seethes within me so
I long to breathe it in my soul.

In the Eye of the Sun

In this glorious moment before the sun sets
All the best of the day is remembered
As warm gentle breezes caress our bronzed limbs,
The soft washes of yellow and red run into
The vast indigo seas of the sky
Casting comforting shadows across sandy shores.
We lie there without words but just drinking in the air
Of a thousand mild scents, lithely touching,
And longing for the night to come now, here to stay.
There's no more for us, go, leave us for the night.

The Golden One

He shines of brilliance, like the day
Of sunlit empyreans, blue;
And all the flame and glory lay
Upon his countenance, a hue
That glows of purest golden ray
A light we know to be the true.

A single downcast look from him
Would near defeat the charming mien
Expressed in easy movements trim,
And in the lays he sings, are seen
His every wish and slightest whim
To intimate all he does mean.

On those sharp features that inspire
With such a prepossessing air,
Magnetic eyes and lips of fire,
There is a soft romantic flair,
A form that speaks of something higher,
One whose life is a gallant dare.

Ruins

On low and verdant pastures lay
The ruins of ancient races;
Into blue infinity look
The eyes of stone-carved faces.

Relinquished to the elements,
The structures stand alone,
A monument from long ago
To a people long gone.

But they are all gone-- everyone,
Gone along with the breeze,
Only the questions where and why
Remain, to stand with these,
Remnants, and die with them.

For stone crumbles and metal rusts
And this city won't last
As plangent surf and lush foliage
Draw nigh over the past.

Pure silence echoes through the streets,
Alone-- all that's left be,
When the very memory dies,
It leaves only mystery.

Here people worked and played and lived
Looking to the future
For dreams and desires unfulfilled;
Plans that did not endure
And things never to be.

Perhaps it's better forgotten
Than pain our memories
With emotional sentiments
Of sad and useless pleas.

And yet did they not enjoy life
When they breathed this sea air;
Did they not love, weren't they happy
In moments without care.

Yes, the moment justifies life
For there is no time more
But while we live there are many
Universes to explore
And to experience.

As the ruins fade into the night
If we have tried our best
We have done well and know the worth
Of living life and rest.

Poetry | Prose | Thoughts