Money
Had i but known by heart, lo those many years ago, Romeo's scathing words aimed at the anguished Apothecary: "I give you poison, You give me none." surely, God be my witness, i would have taken Poetry as my second language, and been a better man for it.
Bridle Shower
Wherever furious water runs wild, you will surely find the fingerprints of a Man scheming to slip a harness over its head.
Stubborn
There is a powerful, unyielding force buried deep within Men that will not permit a river, no matter its depth or current, to separate Villagers.
Under Repair
She had dreams just as big as yours - of college - fine clothes - a useful career - but someone grabbed her heart that junior year. A boy told her he Loved her and she was foolish enough (then) to believe his thinly sliced Promises and Kisses and Caresses. The upshot, (surprise, surprise) a baby girl came along, perfect in every way. The boy, drifted away, a small boat, unmoored. So there was no high school graduation strut across the stage, or cartwheels with diploma in hand, or proud parents beaming. Home alone that celebratory evening, her daughter fussy and running a fever, bottle bubbling on the stove, and later, when the baby finally fell asleep, and She, our dropout, stood before the mirror imagining a glorious satin cap and gown, tassel flipped to one side, she saw herself, standing beside a dusty road dressed in sloppy jeans, hard hat, and fluorescent vest holding a Slow sign at fifteen bucks an hour that she wished she had heeded way back when.
Labor of Love
Since the very beginning of time, in search of God, Men have plotted to tame the Land, Horses, the Seas, and Women with little noticeable effect.
The Waiting Game
Old trees
and
Old men
wait patiently
for the
final
"it's time"
wind
to gently
t
o
p
p
l
e
them
over.
Sourced
Wherever gossip grows wild, there too gather hungry people eager for the harvest.
You From my window I glimpse the sea. From the shore I closer be. Imagination carries me across. You I long to see.
When A Man Goes His Own Way
Mother and Child struggled alone— robbed of all hope by he. His heart built of cold and bone— never looked back, did he. Mother and Child had it rough— abandoned and shunned by he. Composed of sturdier stuff— scrimped and found smiles, did she. She missed his strong, loving arms— to help and hold, did she. Weary each day, but up to the task— Dug deep, resilient was she. Where has love gone? she wanted to ask— vowed so often by he. So competent and clever— women make do, like she. Her barren life imagined? never! caused loneliness, did he. But divorce offered no other choice— cheerful songbird, became she. Music and laughter arrived that day— there was no other way. Mother and child, good as gold, they say— danced and flourished, did they.
Childhood Remedy To be young and unfettered with the burdens and troubles of life is a most precious slice of fleeting time. The clock is ticking! A cloud's nimbleness! A flower's innocence! Curiosity on fire! The need and desire to climb towering trees, dive into summer lakes, build warrior forts, chase older brothers, tease freckled sisters, and giggles without cause, are the enterprise of children. Leave them be. Celebrate them. Forgive them. Time will cure them soon enough.
