The Garden of Delight

 

Here is Mother Nature,
who works so hard unseen.
All the flowers, and all the world,
are products of her dreams.

She often gets no credit
for all that She provides.
The beauty that She creates
with no homage to Her pride.

Working hand in hand with God,
and against the clock of time.
The Mother of all that we enjoy,
and all things which are so fine.

She never signs what She creates,
giving all Her time for free.
Her work is never dated
and goes on eternally.

Her seasons are unnumbered
and in a race with Father Time.
She's always right on schedule,
and Her creations all Divine.

The One Whom I Love Now

If it were not set
that I had met,
the one whom I love now.

I couldn't accept
that I wouldn't yet
contrive upon just how.

To go about
and make but mine
two hearts I know would surely pine.

Would be no doubt,
nor waste in time,
that I would act in haste for thine.

Two souls would shout,
our hearts would whine,
though moon and stars couldn't help shine.

Had fate not coined
my heart be joined,
I cannot see but how.

Were it not set
that I had met,
the one whom I love now. 

After watching "If I Were King" with Ronald Coleman as the poet/bandit Francois Villon earlier in the day, I awoke at 4 o'clock this morning and wrote the following, then went right back to sleep.

Villon is in love with Katherine, who is a Lady in Waiting. Though she is also in love with him, she is also bethored to another and her duty to the Crown separates them irrevocably. A lady-in-waiting is a female personal assistant, attending on a royal woman or a high-ranking noblewoman. Historically, a lady-in-waiting was often a noblewoman, too, but of lower rank than the woman to whom she attended.

So, their love is ill fated and never to be, because he is an outlaw, and she is part of the Aristoracy.

The poem is from her point of view, but in the style of Villon, so it really expresses both of their feelings towards one another.

Written in about as long as it takes to speak. Maybe a minute, tops. Then I went back to sleep.

 

Ode to Arcturus

Every year around this time
I change my "wishing" star.
There are only 4 of them,
held close, though they are far.

Light years beyond where I stand
and gaze at their magic light,
my wishing stars look down on me
and keep me safe throughout the night.

When Orion fades and Betelguese
have left my nighttime view,
Arcturus comes to guard the Bear
and bring me luck anew.

If you don't have a wishing star
then take a look and see,
just find the Dipper's handle
and share it's love with me.

My First Bet

My first bet, remembered yet
was against the school house wall.
Barely twelve I had the itch.
and though I'd pitch, I didn't get rich.
But how I loved that wall.

Never stopped to wonder what I'd do
If those pitches wished would all come true.
I'd toss the coin, or flip the card,
standing in that old school yard,
not knowing life was hard.

Things went on this way for years,
enjoying laughter, fearing fears.
Though at times there were some tears,
they'd quickly dry away.
Time for those another day.

I had no scheme no plan, no guile
just passing time, with time to while,
and strength to go another mile.
With an open mind to any dare,
never pausing once to care.

Now the days grow short in hope,
I glimpse the true length of the rope
with which I used to lasso dreams,
reduced to threads to sew the seams
torn by passing time.

And yet I stand before a wall,
more aware that all walls fall.
But if I had to change a thing,
of what and who I think I've been,
I doubt I would at all.

Good and bad, or ugly yet,
I'd toss the coin, still make the bet
and flip the cards and watch them fall.
Knowing full the price I'd pay,
I still wouldn't wish my past away.

The Easter Bunny

 

The HOA said no soliciting,
but I guess he just wasn't listening
when the Easter Bunny came
knocking on my door.

Being he is Santa's cousin
I said,"I'll take an even dozen".
When I saw that they were chocolate
I took a dozen more!

As a rabbit has to make a living
and holidays are days of giving,
I ate them all and now my tummy says,
"Please stop, I'm getting sore!"

Rabbit says he'll be back next year,
and I told him he'd best tuck his ears,
if he's planning on selling
eggs from door to door.

Easter is a day for giving
but my HOA ain't that forgiving,
And if he comes again they'll be waiting,
on that point I'm pretty sure!

So be careful my chocolate toting friend.
Your next trip might just be the end.
And then I'll have to take the car
and buy my chocolate eggs at the store!

But he's an optimistic bunny
And though I know it may sound funny
I'll bet you all my Easter money that
next year he'll be right back here at my door!

3 Poems - The Thinker. A Trilogy.

 

How can one abandon
such strong feelings?
Am I that weak?
Are you that strong?
I look at what we had
and wonder...
Will i ever feel that way again?
Are there really other eyes out there
that sparkle like yours,
or shine like mine?
I really dont think so.
Turn it over,
look at the other side.
It was worth the changes,
the joys, the sorrows.
I can never forget
the way my heart pounded
at our first kiss.
Or  how time stopped when

i first entered you.
But now we are closed to one another,
and yet time moves on?
................

Sometimes i think i am
all that i need.
And at other times
I need you to be with.
It's so confusing
all of these
conflicting thoughts
and emotions.
If i seem to lean on us,
or you,
is that weakness?
Even the Pillars of Rome
had their faltering moments.
And this moment is mine.
............

How can i avoid
picking up the phone
to call you
when i feel like this?
You might call it weak,
but i don't think so.
Is it wrong to need one another?
(though it scares us both)
Do you need me?
When i ache inside,
can i lean on you?

 

It's Not How, It's Who

The friends who used to play with me
Sometimes write and ask of me,
"Robert, my old friend, how are you?"

I always have the same reply,
And with a twinkle in my eye,
I smile and say, "Not how, my friend, but who."

For I lie abed in many forms,
Some well known, but all well worn.
Characters from books; both old and new.

And, like the lad in "Counterpane",
armies lain before me, in a game;
I always win when there are less than two.

I draw upon books I may have read;
and then tell stories in my head.
I make myself the hero; wouldn't you?

When the game is up I'm out of bed.
But the stories remain inside my head,
and next day I'll live them all again, re-newed.

A Shared Bridge

This was "my" bridge for decades, 

a place where I would roam,

when things got too confusing, 

and I needed someplace to go. 

 Once a ship was tied up there, 

 (for many years it seems.) 

I used to sneak on her of night times 

and I'd sail her in all of my dreams. 

 This was the bridge that I rode across 

 on my bicycle built for one. 

On my way to the beach, or just fishing, 

this was my bridge alone! 

 Years had passed and I'd moved away

 yet still, this was the bridge that I'd see. 

Yes, this was the bridge that I'd lost until 

you came and gave it back to me!

 For Victoria Kanrek - long overdue. With affection and thanks! 

Photo by Victoria Kanrek

The Swan Lives

The swan swims, all alone,
in the pond he once called home.
His love has gone, he feared she might
be leaving all along.

Here, where they once swam, side by side
the pond now seems an ocean. Wide.
In a vacant gulf, filled with cries,
a sadness here presides.

And on he sadly paddles,
but his days alone feel wrong.
For as he swims he wonders how
long it takes to sing a swan's song.

Photo by Wendy Josephs

October 16, 2020
Stonecroft

 

Moving Forward

Moving forward looking back
upstream to the past,
the boat moves slowly, downward bound,
while the current pulls you, fast.

Dreaming dreams of dreams that were,
idle thoughts lay ahead,
moving you forward while you're looking back
at a past you know is dead.

The memories draw you back upstream,
while  the future calls you down,
to a city where you'll live out your dreams
And your life will become your own.


August 22, 2020
Eduardo Cetner-Argentine painter
Photo by Debbie Cawdrey

"Long Time a Child" by Hartley Coleridge

If you were to ask me to name the one poem with which I identify the most, it would be this one. And it has been, for many, many years. Hartley was Samuel Taylor Coleridge eldest son, so he had much to live up to! For me, with this one alone, he scored his place as a poet. The breaks are mine. The poem has long been presented as one verse. I have taken the liberty to do this for the sake of clarity. It is a beautiful, though sad, sentiment expressed with great skill.

LONG TIME A CHILD by Hartley Coleridge

Long time a child, and still a child, when years

had painted manhood on my cheek, was I,—

For yet I lived like one not born to die;

a thriftless prodigal of smiles and tears,

no hope I needed, and I knew no fears.

But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep, and waking,

I waked to sleep no more, at once o’ertaking

the vanguard of my age, with all arrears

of duty on my back. Nor child, nor man,

nor youth, nor sage, I find my head is grey.

For I have lost the race I never ran:

a rathe December blights my lagging May;

and still I am a child, tho’ I be old.

Time is my debtor for my years untold.

Find Me In the Middle

You'll find me in the middle
almost each and every time.
Right there in the bullseye
where there is no yours, or mine.
Yes, you'll find me in the center,
Almost each and every time.

The place which I inhabit
has no me or you,
and if I can't talk to us
then who can I talk to?
The place which I inhabit says
One and one's not really two.

Stop and think about it
and see if you agree,
there is no we in me or you,
'cause one and one ain't three.
It's why you'll find me in the middle,
just as plain as plain can be.

Wise Ould Owl

Wise ould owl;
beady eyes which seem to prowl.
A proud and quiet fowl;
who suffers not - the fool.

Wise ould owl
presiding with a scowl.
Would your verdict be so foul,
t'were you on the Dunce's stool?

Pokey and Ted

Pokey is the doorstop,

Ted is his best friend.

They love one another dearly,

they're friends unto the end.

They greet me each time I go

through the bedroom door.

Sometimes I pick up Pokey,

while Ted sits on the floor.

I nap with Pokey by my side

and each time I awaken

Ted is steadfast by the door

my faith in him unshaken.

These two guys are really tight

as any fool can see.

With so much spare love to share,

there's even some for me!

The Bitter Man

'Tis a bitter man I am, man.
'tis a bitter man I am.
They didn't allow all that I can, man.
So, 'tis a bitter man I am.

They left me in a jam, man.
They did this and then ran.
Left me doing what I can, man.
Now, 'tis a bitter man, I am.

NOTE: Illustration by Fred Bernard.                                                                             

The Sun, the Moon and the Stars.

The moon and stars were talking one day,

The Sun was shining too bright.

He made them look dull some folks would say

So they banished him into the night.

The Sun didn't agree and hated his plight

So, he came up with a plan.

He'd rule the day and then sent them away,

To see what they could see without light.

And that is the reason why right to this day,

You never see them together.

While one is setting, the other one's rising,

and all agree it's been the for better......

--------------------------------------
Revised Version

The moon and stars were talking one day,
the Sun was shining too bright.
He made them look dull some folks would say,
so, they banished him into the night.

The Sun didn't agree and hated his plight
and so he refused to stay
Let them see what they could without light,
he thought as he turned them away.

And that is the reason why up to this writing,
you seldom see them together.
While one is setting, the other one's rising,
and all agree it's been for the better......

(For Sarah Ruth)

Points of View

"I don't like your point of view.

I can't change minds, so I'll change you."

That's pretty much what's it's all about,

it's just what both sides do.

You say you don't like my opinion.

I think your facts are all pure fiction,

hid behind your bombast diction.

Bogus - quite like you.

We never stop to consider

the verbal barrages we deliver

as nothing more than common litter;

temporary - as the dew.

Words unleashed as deadly arrows

cut just as quickly to the marrow.

It could be "we" who's hurt tomorrow;

take care in what we do.....

Photo of Salton Sea in California.

Last Word to My Father

Would that I could,

but can't so I won't

It's not like I don't want to,

it's simply that I don't

meet your expectations,

so, i had to stop from trying.

It's the only way I had to cope,

and keep myself from crying.

Another Birthday!

Looks like another birthday,

another year slipped by.

I'm closer to the end

but not prepared to die.

There's too much left to read and write,

and letters left to send.

I want to stick around awhile

and see how this play ends!

Poor Pumpkin

GDG

The pumpkin looks quite nervous.

And he has good reason why.

It's his first time in this position,

and he's really very shy.

GCDG

But the other cause of his distress-

and when I tell you this you'll cry-

He's heard Thanksgiving's coming,

and he's heard of pumpkin pie!

GD  DCG

Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,

Makes you want to cry.
Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,
Bound for pumpkin pie!

GD DCG
Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,
Nothing he can do.
Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,
Glad that I'm not you!

Photo plagirized from a post by Batton Lash.