Running
Battered feet
Unwilling heart
Along the way
Bitterness sets in
Walking a dark path
Timely intervention needed
Route 192©
Running
Battered feet
Unwilling heart
Along the way
Bitterness sets in
Walking a dark path
Timely intervention needed
Route 192©
The poet
Hands flowed
With sensual Formality
Words engraved
A spectrum
In time
A master of the art©
Fleeting breath
Still waters
Time surrender
Loosing the fight
Holding on
Finding the light
I still believe
There’s a way©
No one else
Can take your place
Your memories
Still fresh
Your lips still tender
Speaks of growing old
Together we will run
Wild and free
Into the night
We will make love
Over and over again
Until your touch
Became a second sun
That shines only for us©

Open up your pages
In its entirety
Let me pen
My love across
The ventricle of your heart©
Bearing a secret
Cloven tongue
Remains silent
Promises faltered
Convicted by time
Doubt became
The final act of treason©

True worth is found
Not in the art of acceptance.
But in the desire to do what’s
Right even if you are not accepted ©
Daddy! I didn’t finished telling you about that cute guy
I met in the store last Tuesday.
Or that new sweet Mocha flavored coffee I bought you.
Why didn’t you say goodbye?
Why did you leave me when I long so desperately for your reassuring smile?
Your deep calm voice that reaches the depth of the Ocean
With passion and pride;
Last night I watered the Tulips and picked the Tomatoes,
The Peas and the Carrots you planted not so long ago.
Daddy! Why didn’t you wait a little while longer, to see your handy-work
Tinge with the colors of forget-me-not.
You left me with sun ripened Tomatoes,
Peas embellished with the colors of the rainbow
And carrots that glowed like the evening Sun,
Your worn out gloves embraced me in comfort and your garden boots swallowed my endless flow of tears;
Daddy; if that was enough for me to go on?
Why do I still look for you in the empty rocking chair dozing peacefully by the fire?
Why do I still look for your strong and sturdy frame silhouette against the evening sky?
This morning I ran down the stairs, your oversize shirts flowing like angels wings in the gently morning breeze.
I sit and sip your memories from the coffee cup you loved so much, and smile
Inwardly, as I realized that despite myself,
I’ve found solace and comfort in your memories.
Born to the east
In the watery woodlands
A child of the night
Given the gift
Of seeing
And hearing
The silent cry
Of lost souls©