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Birds fly
In skies of blue
Soaring high
They bid us adieu

Earth bound we
Are left behind
They are free
To destiny find

Ripples in a Pond

Today, tonight and tomorrow
The flow of time moves on
What we have today
Someday will be gone

But like ripples in a pond
What we touch continues
In different ways, In different forms
And sometimes in entirely different venues

Be careful then, with what you touch
Who you touch and how
For the future is determined
In the present, the here and now

The Legend of the Butterfly

Harmony flew over
Fresh lands of green
Dotted with flowers
Small and unseen
She sang to them nicely
And up they did grow
Covering the land
With white flower snow

The rhythm came down
Bringing a beat
And played on his bongos
Which really was neat
And that fresh flower snow
Turned red, pink and blue
Those flowers grew wings
And to the sky, they flew

And now we see them
Pretty butterflies
But in those first days
They were quite a surprise

Dancing

I go rhythm
I got beat
But I can’t dance
With two left feet

The Archeologist

Desert winds
And blowing sands
In lands of flowing time

Hidden under
People lost
It almost seems a crime

Who were they
And where’d they go
Those who are no more

Dig down deep
And look around
These lands we now explore

We try to learn
What they knew
Wisdom from the past

How they lived
And how they died
From little things that last

Pieced together
We may see
Though dimly at their lives

Maybe we
Will be like them
When future sand arrives

Tired and Lonely

I’m tired today
Don’t know what to do
Couldn’t sleep last night
Can’t sleep without you

Visions of your beauty
Fill up my head
But I can’t fall asleep
Without you in my bed

I want you here next to me
Snuggled nice and warm
And I will sleep happily
My dreams you can transform

Into a happy reality

Longing

I hear your voice
On the phone
But I long to see your face

I long to feel
Your sweet caress
Nothing can replace

But I am here
And you are there

A life apart
I can hardly bare

For now we must
Till I come home
And rest in your embrace

Good enough

Good enough
To be good enough
Never to be
Never I’ll see
Myself as
Good enough
Problems come
Problems go
When I’m around
They seem to grow
I can’t think straight
This I know
I just wish I was
Good enough

Adages

Adages
Adages
Word of wisdom from times before
Adages
Adages
Learn from adages and you’ll soar

Whoever guards his mouth and tongue, keeps his soul from troubles. 1.
A clear conscience can bear any trouble. 2. A poor conscience only doubles.
A man's accusations of himself are always believed; his praises of self never. 3.
Birds of a feather flock together. 4.
Look before you leap. 4.
Beauty is only skin deep. 4.


Adages
Adages
Word of wisdom from times before
Adages
Adages
Learn from adages and you’ll soar


1. Proverbs
2. T. a Kempis
3. Montague
4. Unknown

We three boy

We three boy

We three boy
So sturdy and right
Go to the store
Whenever we might
To buy us candy
It tastes just dandy
Getting back just before night
Oh!
We like candy
We like pop
We like walking
To the shop
Where we buy
Our wondrous goodies
Getting back just before night

We three boys
All love a good fight
Playing spotlight
In the night
With my air soft
I shoot from aloft
A good game of German spotlight
Oh!
We like candy
We like pop
We like walking
To the shop
Where we buy
Our wondrous goodies
Getting back just before night

A Different Look

Something more
Something less
Something like
A game of chess

Locked away
Within your mind
Locked away
For you to find

Look no further
Look within
It doesn’t stop
Nor begin

Always there
Beyond all time
Locked within
This simple rhyme

Under Covers Late at Night

Under covers
Late at night
With my toys
And flash light

I build up worlds
For me t to play
Late at night
Most every day

But please don’ tell
My mom or dad
For if you do
They’ll think I’m bad

For I’m supposed to
Be asleep
Not hiding, playing
Under covers deep

A Pirate's Wenching Poem

A wench is good to have my lad
Got one in every port

But let them meet and then my lad
You’ll find that you’re the sport

A Pirate's Drinking Poem

A bottle a rum
To hold you lads
A bottle a rum will do

Though a bottle a rum
Is fine my lads
I’d rather another for two

The March of the Galumphs

A herd of Galumphs!
Harrumph! Harrumph!
Going to battle!
Triumph! Triumph!

Fitted in armor
So shiny and clean
Making them such
A magnificent scene!

A herd of Galumphs
Bringing triumphs!
Harrumph!
Harrumph!

Home With You

Home is where the heart is
And my heart is with you
Whenever we’re together
I know that the saying is true

When you are near
I have no fear
Of anything great or small

For if everything’s gone
We would go on
My darling, you’re my all

The Window

John got up from his chair, turned off the TV, walked along the long window that made up the side of his apartment till he was next to his bed, and laid down on the soft covers. On the other side of the window a curious crowd watched, while others merely glanced and continued on to other exhibits.

They were all human, just like him, with ordinary jobs and ordinary lives. John had been one of them too, an ordinary man with an ordinary life. He thought back to the day he moved in, a day of odd excitement. How long ago had it been? Weeks, months, a year? He had decided long ago not to keep track, and now time just seemed to blur together in an indefinite haze.

He looked out the window. A few students sat against the far wall, taking notes or chatting, he the subject of their studies. A lone woman sat there too sketching John in all his glory. ‘Some glory’, he half joked to himself. She wasn’t terribly pretty, but not bad looking either, mostly just average, like himself. She seemed to be in her late forties with long salt and pepper hair that marks a woman passing through her prime. Her clothing appeared to be mostly handmade, with bits of artistic expression placed here and there, be it a colorful piece of fabric sewn in, an out of place button or some other thing that marked it as distinctly her own. He first noticed her a month or so after moving in. Since then she had returned every 3 to 4 days. Each time she either sketched or painted him. Sometimes she showed him her works, sometimes she did not. When she did, the work was of such exquisite detail that it left him breathless. Sometimes he would be painted or sketched in his apartment, sometimes he would find himself in another place, next to a lake, fishing, in an office reading a computer readout, or exploring some alien world. They had formed a bond, the two of them, a kind of friendship; her, the artist, he the muse. It worked well for them, but sometimes he wished that he could get to know her better; beyond the pen and the pallet….

He got up from the bed and made his way to the kitchen. It wasn’t very large, but it was always well stocked, one of the benefits of being on display. Sometimes he would cook a fine meal, pretending that he was a famous chef on one of those cooking channels, but generally he just fixed himself something quick and easy and let it go. That was what he did today. He went to the fridge and pulled out a some bread, meat and other stuff, and made himself a quick sandwich, grabbed a beer and sat down on the stool at the counter, reflecting while he ate.

His life really wasn’t that bad. They paid for all his needs and a bit extra, he got to take pretty nice vacations, but most importantly there was no stress involved. His old job was anything but that. He was one of the managers at the National Security Agency. His group ran a large surveillance network that spanned the country. At the center of this network was an immense network of computers that processed all of this data. Every man, woman and child was monitored, and the system was so precise that it could tell you what color underwear you wore or what you had for breakfast on any particular day, and provide pictures or video feed if necessary. It was a top secret project that no one knew about, and watched every single person every single minute of every single day. At least John knew who was watching him. He could see them as well as they could see him. They, on the other hand, were not so fortunate.

Thurburt and Thubble

Thurburt and Thubble
Went through the rubble
Those pieces of their lives

Digging down deep
And opening each
With shovels and with knives

Building Bridges

Building bridges
To a better life
Building bridges
With much less strife
Building bridges for me and my wife
Building
Building
Bridges!

The Red Lotus

The floor trembles
Under the crowd
But no one seems to notice

Chatting away
Problems today
In a cafeteria called Red Lotus

Good By

Taciturn and shy
She said her good-by
For reasons she did not know

Grandpa is gone
Gone to heaven with mom
Though his passing was very slow

The Garden of Pleasant Fields

Raindrops fall
On pleasant fields
And flowers begin to grow

Red and blue
And purple too
All neatly in a row

Then sun comes out
With golden rays
And rainbows fill the sky

And tiddlebuns dance
Among the rows
Though not one knows quite why

Critters come
To pick flowers
And stick them in their hair

And fairies come
With tailors in tow
To make their dresses fair

Dryads watch
From gleaming trees
With eyes of emerald green

And brownies watch
While hidden away
For they prefer to stay unseen

Then a summer wind blows
A warming breeze
And day turns into night

And all look up
At twinkling stars
And smile in rapt delight

Depression

Sadness suffers slowly
From mighty to the lowly
Depression darkens daylight
And makes ones strength to give flight

For those who suffer deeply
They cannot do so cheaply
For things that touch some lightly
Will grasp their heart so lightly

That they can barely gasp for breath

Rhymescape

A vivid landscape of words goes by
With rhythm and meter to match
Telling us stories with pictures to read
Thoughts and ideas to catch

They flow purple, blue, red and green
These word that float by my head
Leading me onward to fields unexplored
Who know what avenues I’ll tread

To far off worlds where words march about
Or islands of peace and rhyme
To the past where words were harsh and rough
To the future or some other time

The language is leads me where ever it will
I follow stoutly behind
Looking around to see what I may
Who know what new words I may find

Beach Time

Ocean waves
With fresh sea scent
Crash upon the beach

Bringing treasures
From afar
Here within my reach

Bits of trees
With braches gnarled
And broken glass now smooth

The sound of wave
And salty scent
My soul they always soothe

Dreaming of You

Laying in bed
With you in my head
My dreams are all about you

I close my eyes
And to my surprise
We’re traveling to Peru

The Sports Bar

Cool foamy beer
That taste is so dear
With my pizza and chips
Through smiling lips
Football with friends
At the sports bar transcends
All manner of stress
I love it here, I must confess

A Night Out

Patterns and lines
Tequila and limes
Together at the dance

Patrick and Lacy
Together they face me
But they seem so much a blur

Lights just confuse me
Though the music still moves me
I just need my wife and romance

But in my condition
There is no supposition
That I couldn’t even recognize her

Dreaming of You

I dream of you
On a moon lit night
I dream of you
In a gown of white
I dream of you
No matter the time
To be with you
A vision sublime

The Tuffelbun Dance

Late at night
Where the shalolocks grow
Tuffelbuns gather
And line up in a row

The leader at the front
He does a little hop
Then one by one
The line starts to pop

They turn to the left
And turn to the right
Do a little shiver
As if standing in fright

Then the wiggle and they squiggle
Going to and fro
Dancing through the trees
Who knows where they’ll go!

They dance through the dreams
Of people fast asleep
Wriggle, spin and hopping
Then finish with a leap

So close your eyes and watch them
Dancing all around
Dancing fun and beautiful
And also quite profound

Vision

A vision of beauty
Of substance and charm
With love and compassion
Who could do no one harm

And mine for the asking
To love and to hold
My beautiful wife
More precious than gold

Dreams

Dreams that have come
And gone astray
Dreams that came
But would not stay

Now my dreams
Are all for you
I pray these dreams
Might someday come true