Friendship

A long lost friend is found,
to an oath we are bound,
to always be in touch,
remembering how much
we missed sharing our thoughts,
and how hard we have fought,
to keep each other close
and cherished as a rose


For friendship never dies,
and friends never tell lies,
in each we can confide,
there is nothing to hide.
There's a joy in sharing,
there's pleasure in caring,
you are my special friend
from now until the end.

Emerald Island

Emerald Island is calling my name,
longing for it causes no shame;
I’m a proud descendent of the Irish,
watching three leaf clovers flourish.

I lose my key chain at least once a week,
a little elf plays hide and seek;
annoyed, I reach for the Irish whiskey,
mood lightens and I feel frisky.

St. Patrick’s Day is a gala affair,
I reach for something green to wear;
good luck and bad luck are in all my thoughts,
people without green will be caught.

The luck of the Irish is in my soul,
returning there soon is my goal;
Emerald Island is calling my name,
longing for it causes no shame.

Envy

Rumors whirl like shooting stars,
as reputations are marred.
Loose tongues spreading vicious lies,
falsehoods somehow never die.

Thriving on maliciousness,
peeling away all goodness,
envy feasts on daily fibs,
gnawing on juicy, fat ribs.

A glutton goading deceit,
defamation it’ll next meet.
Its cocktail of spitefulness,
boasts of drops of ruthlessness.

Tunneling deep into souls,
spreading green throughout the holes.
Clinging like a parasite,
claiming its evil is right.

Final Trip

Discard emotional baggage,
move through life with lightweight luggage,
preparing for the final trip,
traveling without bags to grip.

Accept your foibles one by one,
forget the past – what’s done is done,
surround yourself with upbeat friends,
enjoy life to the very end.

Make an effort along the way,
to keep your emotions at bay,
concentrate on self-improvement,
focusing on development.

Be good to others – that is all,
and forgive yourself when you fall,
life doesn’t have to be so hard,
make mistakes – do not be on guard.

The final trip will come some day,
and you will be ready to say,
life was great – let’s see what’s ahead,
as the doctor declares you dead.

Deep Thoughts

I don’t answer the telephone,
or give the dog a juicy bone.
I don’t think about cooking meals,
or go shopping for steals.

I don’t report to work each day,
expecting to increase my pay.
So people say I’m negative,
and they recommend sedatives.

Psychobabble cannot help me;
empty those drugs into the sea.
I am reflective and searching,
then analyzing while perching.

Deep thoughts absorb my attention,
there’s no need for intervention.
I pursue them seeking their source,
I acquiesce, there is no force.

I want to tap my potential,
meditation is essential.
Mundane chores can be distracting,
while fresh thoughts are interacting.

So carry on and waste your time,
worry and fret over a dime.
Meanwhile I’m setting my mind free,
so that I can grow and be me.

Destiny

Destiny took control of my life,
fighting, kicking, I opposed the strife,
objecting to life’s roller coaster,
my eye was captured by a poster.

“Roll with the punches”, it simply read,
“Live every minute until you’re dead”.
Yea, easier said than done, I mused,
debating the quote made me confused.

Why should I accept things I don’t like?
Isn’t it better to take a hike?
But I found I couldn’t run away,
destiny always has its own way.

Do Not Disturb

Genius at work, do not disturb,
I never thought to be perturbed,
with great respect, I tiptoed out,
contemplating this grand man’s clout.

A week, maybe two, came and went,
when I was one more time sent,
the office door was tightly closed,
I knocked then stepped back, smiled and posed.

Patiently waiting for someone,
confident a person would come,
soon I felt foolish standing there,
behind a door and no one cared.

Intending to bang on the door,
I was shocked hearing a man snore,
genius at work, do not disturb,
my hair bristled, I was perturbed.

Labyrinth of Forgetfulness

In the labyrinth of forgetfulness,
life has lost its luster and playfulness,
the brain and the tongue aren't on the same page,
it feels like thoughts are locked up in a cage.

Names, dates and time have become elusive,
fading as the mind becomes more passive,
anger leaps forward like a trapped jaguar,
positioning itself on a wire.


Daily routines have been turned upside down,
delightful smiles have been replaced with frowns,
frustration and confusion lead each day,
decisions, control are slipping away.


The borders of reality are loose,
illusions step in creating a ruse,
actions forgotten in lucid moments
leaves a sense of emptiness which torments.


In the labyrinth of forgetfulness,
lost, floating in the abyss of darkness,
the mind's inability to recall,
leaves memories suspended in free fall.

A Man's Shadow

I walk in the shadow of my man,
all my smiles and comments have been banned;
I support him in his weak moments,
I soothe him when he’s hell-fire bent.

His greatness casts shadows on others,
yet, when he glides past, huge crowds gather;
the limelight makes him larger than life,
few know that he is trailed by his wife.

I walk in the shadow of my man,
from a distance I do what I can;
a cliché states behind a grand man,
is a loving wife holding his hand.

Email Message on Valentine's Day

I opened my email box,
sat motionless as a fox,
disbelieving the message,
which was meant to encourage.

It is a virus I mused,
looking completely confused,
slightly touching the delete,
the motion was incomplete.

Deciding to take the risk,
click, it opened in a whisk,
once again I gaped in shock,
panting like I ran a block.

Tiny tears slid down my cheek,
still through blurred vision I peeked,
a valentine’s card from you,
my deepest wish had come true.

Death

Tears are streaming down his cheeks, shoulders slumped, he appears so weak.
His black jacket is rumpled,
dress shirt and pants are crumpled.


Weariness pours from his eyes,
he struggles to say good-bye.
His mouth moves but no words come,
beaten, suddenly he's mum.


His roses slip from his hand,
tear stained lying on the sand.
On wobbly legs he trembles,
a lost man, he resembles.


He collapses on the floor,
then removed from viewing more.
His cherished orchid has died,
he just wants to run and hide.


The moment seemed ill-fated,
admitting that he hated,
parting from his dearest wife,
the precious jewel of his life.

Lucky

Puppy land is where I am,
mesmerized by such a ham,
bringing great joy to mid-life,
I’m a mom as well as wife.

Lucky is her name today,
bringing smiles like bright sun rays.
Sometimes she’s known as Troubles,
but bad deeds burst like bubbles.

Lovingly, big brown eyes stare,
melting the angriest glare.
Forgotten is the torn chair,
or sharp teeth pulling my hair.

Marveling, I watch her dig,
will she discover a rig?
Oil or gold would be so great,
is my couch the hidden gate?

Training is coming along,
she barks and tells me I’m wrong.
I’m now doing things her way,
and she ignores what I say.

At night she sleeps at my feet,
till bedtime when our eyes meet.
Our lives are woven with gold,
I’m lucky too, so I’m told.

Soaring like a Kite

My body moves to an inner song,
feet tapping, head bopping, all day long.
Sporting a Mona Lisa like smile
causes others to stare for awhile.


Trivial matters are thrown aside,
and I glide on as my instincts guide
me skillfully through each day and night,
I feel like I'm soaring like a kite.


My thoughts have changed at this altitude,
reshaping, forming new attitudes.
Releasing demons has set me free
to be however I want to be.

Life is an Illusion

"Everything is an illusion."
This thought conjures up confusion.
I repeat and contemplate it,
and then I leave it for a bit.

The world's nothing but vibrations.
Knowledge leads to liberation?
Our bodies and chairs look solid;
our brains think these facts are valid.

Our brains, too, vibrate when we think,
so vibrations are the one link.
Why do you and I see the same?
Because things have been given names?

"There is no time, no space, nothing."
Free yourself of feelings and things.
All in life is an illusion.
Past and future – a great fusion?

Lucky

Stars

Road to Heaven

Cactus

My first oil painting

Exhaustion

Beyond exhaustion,
closed to sensation,
all my limbs are numb,
mind registers dumb.

Soft voices float by,
acknowledged by sighs,
no strength to respond,
gazing at the pond.

Demands keep pouncing,
laboring, bouncing,
from one to the next,
working on the text.

“No, it’s not ready!”,
voice sounding heady.
“Finish by midnight?”
The pond is in sight.

A fish is skipping,
my hand is gripping,
pole in hand, I run,
my work is not done.

Fishing till midnight,
gives me great delight;
exhaustion is gone,
I’m nobody’s pawn.

Choices

Why wrap in dreary colors,
and throw away your dollars,
grovel in dirt and decay,
complaining along the way?

Blindly you wander through life,
inviting worries and strife,
deaf to melodic voices,
making all the wrong choices.

Unhappiness pulls its strings,
tightening, anger it brings;
dark pessimism invades,
the burning flame of hope fades.

You are more dead than alive,
not caring if you survive.
It's time to heed some advice;
listen, it won't be told twice.

Everyone has ups and downs,
and have moments when they frown.
They differ in how they choose,
and they don't have a short fuse.

Life is about attitude,
soaring to great altitudes.
It's simple, be positive,
throw away the negatives.

Harriet

This painting is my version of a picture of Harriet by Jane Bond.