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Poem Title: From a Poet's Heart
I'd like to leave a legacy
For all those coming after me,
Of written words that transcend time
And open up the world of rhyme.
I'd want each piece to be possessed
Of special merit and be blessed
With something setting it apart.
A missive from a poet's heart
That reflects the world I've known
And shows that I can trim and hone
Each word until it fits the space
And stands in its intended place.
No matter what I had to say,
I'd hope the subject matter may
Strike a chord in someone's soul.
Then I would realize my goal.
But yet I know it's not to be.
There is no immortality
For striving poets, such as I,
Though I still feel compelled to try
And there's a clouded place in side
Wherein an epic poem may hide!
Poem Title: Love and Lilacs
We wandered through the yard today.
Then you broke off a lilac spray
And handed me the lovely bloom,
That radiated sweet perfume.
It was a symbol, I could see,
Of something happening to me,
For every time we have to part,
You break off pieces of my heart.
Poem Title: The Passing Bell
Upon the wharf, beside the bay,
I saw a man, so old and gray
who sat to watch the ships sail by.
I heard him speak; I caught his eye
and in it's depths, I seemed to see
a glimpse of what life used to be,
before old age had put a halt
to his career; a roving salt.
Within his voice, I heard the sea.
A wild and strange cacophony
of wind and storm, of thunder clap,
of crashing waves and masts that snap.
Of briny spray and icy spars,
of navigating by the stars.
He turned away and I did too,
but somehow in my soul, I knew,
here was a man who'd been to Hell,
now waiting for the passing bell
and when it sounds, a ship will come,
whose sailors raise their tot of rum.
All black the ship and black her sails.
The ghostly crew stands at her rails.
A mute and weather-beaten horde,
who've come to welcome him on board.
Poem Additional Notes:
a roving salt: a sailor, masts and spars: ships rigging, the passing bell:
a bell that was rung when someone died. tot of rum: a small measure of drink
served on a ship to sailors.
Poem Title: Memories of Rain
Deep buried in the arid ground
So many dormant seeds abound
And seasons come to drift on past,
Before they stir to life at last.
The memories of falling rain
Must lie within and so sustain
Some power to regenerate.
Although for years they sometimes wait,
There'll come a day when all is right
And they start growing towards the light,
To burst upon the desert scene
With blossoms that have seldom been
Displayed for anyone and so
The crowds will come to see the show.
The Giant Blazing Star appears
And on it's four foot stalks it rears
Above so many others yet,
Their colored masses will not let
The impact of them fade away.
Orange fields of Poppies shift and sway
In slightest breeze and Desert Bell
With dark blue clusters, casts it's spell,
While smaller blossoms hug the ground
To make a carpet all around.
This gardened beauty fades away
So quickly and it's hard to say
When this will happen once again.
Most years we watch for them in vain.
Spring brings hope that ample showers
Will awaken desert flowers.
