When all the leaves have fallen To crunch beneath indifferent feet Afore winter's capturing talon Executes life's final, sad retreat In cold silence loud and sullen When kettle drums begin to beat Humbling each arrogant felon The august end in brutal defeat Wail! No immunity to dwell in Ominous! All graves loom to greet The poor, the rich, the driven All the same pointless end do meet Kiss the Son,now! Determine Sure escape by a fall at Jesus'feet!
Long and heavy-hot, July-Doldrum-Days;
Shag hazy thought as staggering, drunk strays;
Desperation fraught in scorching-hot-rays!
Instinct (not wisdom taught) seeks cool caves.
Safe, in a hidden spot! As my long-lost slaves…
I reclaim my thought, my icy-blue-memory saves,
My present re-caught in isolation my soul craves.
Rid of the fiery onslaught! By cool, blue waves…
Comfort the distraught,Oh Shadow of the Graves!
Deceiving the overwrought on blazing-hot-days.
Play for me! Strum on silvery strings!
Old golden hymns of ancient Truth…
Soul calming song, fly on Dove wings!
Remind me of all eternity’s worth!
Tell me of the miracle only Love brings!
Spirit’s joy, lifted by Heaven’s mirth!
Saintly song across the ages still rings…
Encircling all of history’s wide girth!
Jesus the Name a saint eternally sings…
Calling the lost home to a new birth!
Soft and low Jesus is calling; faith swings,
Life Door opens! Church of one Faith…
Ancient cloud of witness with us sings!
Healing words approving His Truth;
Faith transcends, Jesus in all age’s rings!
So strum and sing of Messiah’s birth!
Rock of Ages to you believer still clings…
Glory come down! A Pearl of worth!
Revive us again! Hope in praise springs!
Light the dark! Simple songs of Truth!
Vapors rise to form clouds and dreams.
Most take flight to drift on a pleasant breeze,
Then dissipate unremembered.
The few give of themselves to the nurturing of green hills;
Causing flowers to bloom in bursting color!
While others grow, gather, rumble, and flash!
Turning day to night under fear’s shadow;
Destructive damaging force!
Genesis in primordial mist of human imagination…
The world we created first in our dreams,
Then swept away in the flood of our iniquity!
I surrender these misty dreams of mine to Holy Spirit sway!
I prepare for that Day when a world created from toxic fumes
Is burned and only Holiness remains.
Welcome to the menagerie of my mind!
Collection I have traversed time to find!
Untamed creatures a one of every kind!
Circus of dreams ideas in passion I bind!
My wild imagination I sent to be refined;
High Def exaggeration in story entwined;
Dash o’ rose hint o’ lime polished shined!
This, my life’s work which daily I do grind.
Compulsion obsession madness confined?
From my depth of soul divinity I’ve mined!
My search for guidance only faith defined;
A purpose to purify menagerie of my mind.
The weaving of chartreuse and lavender is a matter of opinion,
A controversy over the many shades of spring!
Summer moods are translated through subtle hues of vermillion,
Passion’s peak of heat that red-oranges bring!
Autumn sets color free speech in primary hues of truth dominion,
Enter souls by eye-gate beauty inspire to sing!
Color falls to grey as white blanket drapes over every color minion,
Winter wipes slate clean in an icy-dazzle-bling!
What if I have written it all away?
All those important things I had to say,
And my creative mind fades in aging?
Should this old woman sit silent?
Observing only, as life’s passions relent?
And ambitions fray beyond assuaging?
Is this the day I’ve become irrelevant?
A life of experience now, an impediment?
As youths fires of souls in mind raging!
Old marries alone; aging artist is eccentric.
Cutting edge technique, an olden-day trick!
Museum dust, archived tomes arranging.
Inside this graying head ideas still burn!
Refined, honed, tested, polished; Taciturn,
Waiting for perfect moment, right paging.
Old woman’s color fades into the background…
Expert hand trembles to write words profound.
Perfect gems require no salacious packaging.
Does age purify the art of the creative?
Or does it stagnate, cease; become vegetative?
Like me, is my art from life now, disengaging?
Enchanted by a Primrose dream in June…
A perfect dewy morn,
Sun adorns! I awake by Meadowlark tune!
No summer will I scorn!
Take my hand old man, still a honeymoon…
Our old love newly born,
In every passing season and many a moon!
Every wrinkle care-worn,
My dear old man hold me and let’s spoon!
Apart may we not be torn!
Together so long, souls and hearts attune,
Without you I die forlorn…
I will follow you! Even as far as Neptune!
Taken by one blackthorn!
Should our Primrose dream turn maroon…
Hold me! We’ll be reborn!
On an eternal dewy morning forever June!
A lovely little stroll on the edge of consciousness…
Fading out and then fading in…
Gathering memories from dreams of Yester-lore…
Reality blocked seeps back in…
Blend time outside of time, a bit of Heaven’s rest…
Slip away preparing to slip in…
Twenty-five minutes of Paradise others call a nap!
There are moments during a rare warm Siesta Moon,
When the pain ebbs and my body sings a softer tune.
Sighs of relief! Pain gone brightens usual Agony Moon,
My cruel lover who won’t let go sings besetting croon,
Beastly howling like a lost coyote during a Dusty Moon!
Our relationship began by accident, a trap by the goon!
I married pain in the greenish light of a Ghoulish Moon…
Day, years, decades pass as I take medicine in a spoon.
Divorcing pain I will joyfully dance under a Fiesta Moon!