Category Archives: musings

Birdsong

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When,
At a little after 5 am
I awake.
I think it late.

“Can you hear the birds?”,
You said.
Alone, in my bed,
I remember your words,
So much unsaid
By a girl who
I scarcely knew,
For a night is not long.
Yet, you took me far beyond
Sin, with the beauty of birdsong.

The Dance

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Entranced, he watched the dance,
As the girl
Did whirl,
Her feet
Kicking up the dust
Of poets, and dancers,
And other chancers,
Who you may meet
And pass, on the street
Without a second glance.
And the age-old dance
Goes on,
But the dust
Of those long gone
Is not disturbed
By a young woman’s dancing feet

Spiral

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She wrote in her spiral
Notebook. Her pen
Being men.
Some words go viral,
But in her spiral
Notebook, they go round
And round
Again
And again.

Or, maybe, ’tis broken men
Who take up their female pen
And write, again
And again.
‘Tis both women And men
Who employ the same,
Old pen.
And oft times leave behind,
A broken, mind

I Have Dreamed Many A Dream

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I have dreamed many a dream
Where fantasy
Did seem
To be reality.
And I have thought, that I ought
To take care
Lest my dream, turn to nightmare.
For in dreams
All is not what it seems,
And who can fathom
The chasm
That may or may not be
Between a dream,
And  reality?

 

Sometimes I Think We Poets Obsess Too Much On Grim Death

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Sometimes I think we poets obsess
Too much on grim death.
We hear the blackbird sing
And say “the flowers that bloom
In spring,
And this bird, so full of joy,
Time will destroy,
All too soon”.

We obsess
Over the maid
In her white
dress,
And say, “she will fade
Into the eternal night”.

Yet there is much delight
In the maid,
And when, into the night
Poet and maid
fade,
They may leave to posterity,
More than poetry.