The Backyard Circus
Did you ever stop to think
what it is like
to hang mid-air from a leaf’s edge
or to glide along a leaf
blowing in the breeze–
or crawl upside down
upon veined slopes of green?
or to give’s one’s all
to a loved one
stories high from the ground
hanging onto her for love
and dear life?
*
Such feats go on all day long,
ignored by you–
our talents unacknowledged–
because we are lowly creatures in your eyes
and yet we can do
acrobatic feats
you cannot even approximate.
*
Did you ever stop to think?
The Night Light Show
Tiny, twinkling stars
suffering loneliness,
fall from the sky
and become fireflies,
flickering on and off
among the trees
calling for a mate,
lighting the night sky
and exciting vision
with twinkling
and flashing lights
and one is not sure
which is which
so bewitched are we
by the show of Light.
Flutterbies
Tread lightly
for the wings of angels
flutter by our souls
as we plod on
in our own worlds
often unawares
of the Heaven inside us
because of the Hell of our thoughts.
A Hug Without Arms
Do they think because
we have no arms
we do not hug?
Do they think because
we have smaller brains
we do not love?
*
We hug
neck to neck,
chest to chest,
coat to coat,
in a warm embrace
of pure love,
a love as pure
as theirs,
perhaps more so.
*
They think
we do not love
because it makes it easier
for them to drug us
for so-called sports,
for their so-called fun,
and race us past injury,
and, yes, they even kill us
for their gustatory pleasure.
*
All we want to do
is love our families
and run free.
But we are willing
to serve them
if they treat us right.
*
Now I ask you:
who here is superior?
The Leaf Devoured
Water droplets magnify
the verdant veins
through which
the life giving blood flows
through which
the life giving source
that keeps
giving life
keeps
life going
despite the wear and tear
of an alien attack
by a catapulting caterpiller
that offers another creature
a world within world
in which to live.
Despite
bitten tears,
bitter tears,
the leaf will live green
through the summer
and then shrivel to crimson,
life blood draining
and it will cry no more
as it drops dead
from the branch
where it lived
for a few short months.
Heresay Hear Today
In
sin
u
ation
over
what
Katy
did
or
didn’t
do
to
Dahlia
is
here
say
prattle
of
goss
i
ping
blooms
filled
with
en
vy
The Stealth Kiss
Unseen by a background of fellow flowers
he rushed towards her purple petals
to plant the blossom of her bosom
with a kiss
when
blew a breeze
that steathily stole his kiss,
before she ever knew, sending it wafting
above the treetops to the forever fields of lost loves.
“Music Magic”
Today
a lightness of being
want to share
the scintillating spark
Cat Stevens
and his cohorts
see
the Light
music often mania makes
is this mania
or
is it the catepillar
coming out of the chrysalis of depression
being Bipolar bears
cacophonic confusion
even after 6 decades
who cares
Cat Stevens
a gift to me
from my brother
post mortem
his legacy to me
because he loved him
and because I missed him
I listened
too late to share the love
now
my gift to you
just listen and let
soul to soul transmission
effect
its music magic
culminating
in a crescendo
of
soul
Dinosaurs
As Spring competes with Fall
for foliage
tree trunk dinosaurs
roam
the spotted green
tusset grass in the marsh.
Hooked
You hooked me,
twenty-eight years ago,
with your shy smile
and elusive ways.
I was scared
but you were more so
which made me brave.
I would I had known you all my life
(or even before)
but I feel/felt like I had
although it took years for me to find you.
With your rough hewn edges
you taught me to speak up
when before I spoke not.
I have learned to take care
because you have taught me to dare
and today on our 24th wedding memory,
despite our little irritations and frustrations
as an old married couple,
I am hook-line-and-sinker-
in-love-with-you,
and want to use what time is left
together
to bring one and other to God.
Springtime Blues no.3
I am tres desolee
today
spring blossoms
morph to snow
when drained of color
against a grey sky
as I morph to lows
after a false high
Two Lips of Forever Love
He didn’t “get it,
the “loss thing,”
when my aunt died mid-April,
and I lost my second mother.
Didn’t “get it” when I lost my first.
This was not the only time
he was lost in oblivion and
puzzled by my tears.
*
He didn’t see me hurting
from the loss of my lineage,
and his lack of empathy for my grief
as he made me meet and greet
a friend the next day, as if all was normal.
This time I balked, bolder and older,
and he agreed it was time to ponder
and talk with his mentor.
*
When he came home
one night days later,
full of hugs of apology,
and tulips on the kitchen counter,
it was a breakthrough for us both.
It took a few days
but what came out
brought tears upon tears.
*
Not having grown up
with emotional displays
he didn’t “get” the meaning of loss.
With no models of grief
he didn’t know how to feel it himself
nor how to give solace,
not just lip service,
to those who had lost.
*
I cried for him.
How very sad, as a child
he didn’t know the love I knew.
He, a sensitive child,
in an icebox family
fraught with frigid emotion,
and warm, deep affection only
from his great-aunt, Dot.
*
He brought me pink tulips,
flowers of a contrite heart,
and held me close
and kissed me
with lips full of apologies
but I was the one
who felt sorry for him
for the years he knew not love.
*
Twenty-eight years ago
God told me “Love this man,
trust him and have faith in him,
and hold him to your heart.”
Many moons later, I love him light-years
more than the day we met
and in then-unimaginable ways
has our love strove for the stars.
*
He has brought me:
kindness and gentleness,
generosity of spirit,
goodness of heart,
and healing humor.
What I have taught him:
the glories of love
and agony of loss.
*
From the beginning
the seed of love was sown
for better or worse
deeply within the parched,
but fertile soil of my imperfect heart.
And he has cultivated the growth
of a stalwart, staid evergreen,
amid the blooming two-lips of forever love.
The Haunting
The haunted look
in the eyes
the plastic tags
in the ears
the bit of grass
in the coat
of a tender soul
behind bars
*
One day
the haunted
will arise in glory
their souls ablaze
with triumph
*
One day
we will pay
our dying hearts
haunted
by the very souls
hunted
by the likes of us
Swarms
The attack
not killer bees
nor locusts
nor hornets
nor any insect
but the contents
of the mind
Tied up in knots
not safe
not secure
not strong
not peace
Sick with
the plague of fears
negative thoughts
insidious
invidious
poison
killing joys
bringing tears
of pain
and loss
and grief
The swarms cloud the sun
taking away the Light
and all it enraptures
attacking
the very source
of life
Love
Traveling Through Violet
Light moves
silently
stealthily
surreptiously
in the dark violet
of nightfall
reflections
of phantasms
fill the windows
for I am full of fear
in the silent hum
of darkness
Looking for the Light
In the golden hour
Spring sprouting trees
dainty with bud,
a delicate delight
devoured
by the hungry devotee.
Mid-March Reflections
What is referred to as the “washed-out” landscape
of March
is brimming with the glow of secret growth
about to burgeon forth
into a verdant folly of spring green.
MOONSIDE 
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