Dear sweet summer

I write this to let you know

how very much your presence is missed,

I know you were distracted when you were here

and your visit cut short due to pressing fronts

from the North, the time came when you had to leave.

it doesn’t make it that much easier.

the night grows dark so quickly when you are not here,

I miss your warmth,

the way you gave us a smile and laughter

long past bedtime.

you were the life of each party when you showed up,

I understand how you can be quite busy and for this I forgive.

please say you’ll return soon,

I miss my shorts and tee’s,

the dogs miss long evenings outside playing in the pond,

without you the hummingbirds seem to have disappeared,

maybe they went with you? Yes, that must be it.

anyway, I just wanted to let you know

just how much you are loved and missed.

like I said, come back soon, stay awhile and no offense,

but we grew weary of your pal the rain so he can keep his grey ass at home this time,

if you don’t mind.

also enclosing the key so you can let yourself in just in case I am not home.

yours truly,

the world.


Infinity for a moment

Walking along the water

the boat waiting to carry away,

the child self wandering the landscape

imagination awaits the journey

to live among the stars.

Knowing each one as a friend,

hands reach up to touch

the sparkling lights of the night,

a gift of the muse through color

purple skies stretching

like a blanket on the world.

Water ripples  as fingers trail along

feeling the wetness warm in the hands,

cupped for a taste

twinkling reflected and swallowed

thirst quenched and magic ingested

to become a part of the whole

that is everything the eyes see

and that which we are not attuned to,

the invisible we feel

yet know it is so important

to include it all in the making

of a moment of perfection.

The boat moves forward as the form grows smaller,

one particle among a million,

infinity a raft we ride

softly swaying

on the waves that are this life.


Calm above breaking through

Waters lay smooth

like polished marble

reflected lights of skies above.

what lies below will grow

and at some point

break through

as it is born to fulfill its destiny

and nothing short of dying

can change this fact.

Reaching through to air



An island among nothing

yet in and of itself

so very beautiful

for the strength and tenacity

as it held firm through each storm

and stood alone proud,

Unafraid to be itself,

To be all it was meant to be.


photo credit to:  Silhouette of trees at Dawn-Luiza Boldeanu.


Beautiful remains

As seasons pass,

morning chill wrapped in woolen coat

as sun so very slowly protrudes through darkness

summers plants grow faded.

tiny flowers in corner box,

is it time to say goodbye?

Ethereal light comes to rest,

showing yet again

their loveliness,

sweet bloom glows

showing off to the cameras eye,

they shall remain for a while longer

gracing the approaching fall

with their own little gift

petals soft in the light of day,

giving me a smile

as I pass the corner where they sit

waiting for a compliment.



Energy of heart

Who doesn’t love to see

an image that moves in the mind,

a heart suspended

hanging from a thread

energy moving my thoughts

as I slowly adjust

to the dawn light born.

Who doesn’t love a work of art

created through soul migrating through the channels

of the artist and vibrating outward

through the hand,

one mans idea

presented in color,

the artist who puts his heart

into each piece loved

like a child.

I see the simplicity

Each stroke placed for effect and meaning,

Under the moon the fall moves in

cold mornings brisk

as the spider spins its web,

creating its own work of art

suspended in corners with almost invisible thread

reaching out into thin air

reflected in the sun that comes

to give light to the darkness,

to give hope for a spot of warmth.

Artwork: “Danseuse” by Joan Miro



About the sheep

Small white house fence tattered,

most days held in

hundred wooly fluffs graze

as I pass by.

Rosie’s in the road again,

Turn around I stop and knock

dog barks and rushes the door

as a frail old maid steps out.

I speak of the sheep grazing in the ditch

fifty five miles this road they go,

she grabs a stick and herds her in,

be careful of the rams

she says with a grin.

eighty six and going strong,

these are her children,

the Romney herd,

lineage traced with care,

but not a lot of call for them she says,

out of money

and running out of time

she tells me of her simple life

though in a hurry I stay awhile

to listen to the tales she weaves

about these sheep and this life she leads.

Passage of time again I wander by,

smashed car in her drive

windshield shattered,

I pray all is well.

Mattress days later by the road,

no lights on

and no one home

the sheep disappear one day,

a truck backed up to the open gate

and I feel the sadness for the life that had been,

new car now and weeds grow high

no sheep to trim the lawn,

no Rosie in the road,

and I hope she has a flock above,

And that she is with her dear loved dog

and family souls long gone.

The shepherd sleeps in her fathers arms

tending the heavens

with wool and love

and no roads that harm.

Photo credit:  Sheep in the meadow-Dian Bernado




Cloud selfie

Beautiful visions

breathing in the calm

skies lovely in their morning dressing gown

I meditate the moment

breathing softly I exit my car to capture

this perfect sky.

someone calls my name and I turn

the moment will wait,

colors will last

I turn back to my task

hold the camera up

little cloud intrudes

my bit of loveliness marred

by the cloud selfie

introducing itself

saying how do you do

look at me

look at me.



Edge of fire

Your voice comes to me



I close my eyes drifting back in time

of days by the waterfalls

of sunny days

and of youth that would never end

can we go back

begin again

if in a dream

a time-lapse image

of the man in black and white

who sang just to me.

I sit here now

hair grayling nicely

knowing those days won’t be back

anytime soon,

they will not return

except in dreams

and voices from machines.

generations grow and move forward

childish whims left sometimes behind,

yet I sit here with the little box

and you croon to me

to light your fire

But I’ve a meeting to attend,

so fine sir you must wait

lord knows we can’t get much higher

just high on life,

’cause a random drug test would leave me home

watching your loveliness on you tube

while eating Bon bons on the couch

if I were to join you in the mire

of herbs and things taboo.

So sing to me Mr Morrison

and I shall make do

with memories of youth and days

that I wished didn’t have to end.

Back to the drudge

of another day in the concrete jungle

please send the crystal ship soon!!



Presents of presence

You bestow upon

this weary mind

visions of beauty

and presents through presence.

The stars above

know the truths below

are momentary fractions

in a small slice of time.

Ever changing

re arranging

lives through circumstance

and what destiny lays before

the feet and heart

of mortal man,

he who stares at the sky searching

Galileo looking for more

beyond this physical existence,

beyond mere thought.

Into action

feasts for the  hungry

visions of magnificence

filling the starving soul.


Burning bright

Jars of light

sitting patiently waiting

for you to arrive,

cheerful quiet peace awaits

a glass of wine and a friend

Music to soothe the stress away,

a hand to hold

an ear to lend

we’ve been waiting for you to come

join the evening party

of that which is life.

Let us raise a toast

laughter and singing will be had

merriment we shall surely make

this corner spot

away from the world

warm humid nights

and fireflies to see

dreams to weave and happiness abound.

Come, we are waiting here for you,

the candles are lit

the jars sit pretty

flickering welcome committee

to a new moment

in your every typical day.

sit back and relax,

the party’s just starting

with you, the guest of honor

so glad you could come.

welcome my sweet friend.