Tears and Graveyards

Tears and Graveyards

In the first 33 years, 

I went to six funerals.

This year Tom died,

 I hadn’t seen him for a while.

Accidentally shot by a friend

 trying to help others.

Harold had been sick,

old age, and diabetes.

In the hospital, he said,

“Please tell them, let me go.”

Wally was older than me

but we shared and were friends.

He knew he was quiet

but helped without being asked.

Grandpa George was the hardest

a quiet man who loved us all.

I will always miss him,

now Grandma is alone.

This has been a year of tears

and graveyards.

I hope next year 

if the Lord is housecleaning.

He will miss my friends or

at least let me see them before they go.

28 Nov 86

Color Our Love

Color Our Love

All right what

shall we color our love

Black is evil

but power are we

Red is anger, yes,

we have enough of that

Blue is sadness

of those times, I remember

Yellow is fear 

there are times when I do

Green is growing

I think we always will be

What shall we color

our love not with one

We color it

every day with every act

Our love is a rainbow

with all of the hues

With all of the colors

and thoughts and actions

But that’s why

our love is an artist's palette

26 Nov 86

If I Could

If I Could

If I could have

one dream

one hope

one moment come true

It would be watching

the sunrise

after a weekend

of passion and love

Watching the sunrise

with memories of

naked embarrasses

and uninterrupted kisses

Candle lite dinners

with take home pizza

 and fires burning lower

by the hour

Late at night

listening

to the sea

and your sleeping breathe

If I could have

one moment

one hope

one memory to share

26 Nov 86

Windows

Windows

I’ve always loved windows,

to look out and see my dreams,

at night the stars smile back,

and the gentle rain can fall.

Glass sometimes is the only

divider from tomorrow.

Eventually, the sun will shine through

and burn off the mist.

When you look out of windows,

no one else can see your thoughts,

and there are no boundaries, no closed gates,

and more than birds can fly.

19 Aug 1986

Dreamers

Of all the types of

people in the world

I get along best

With Dreamers

I don’t know

what it is that

makes their excitement

but like a common cold

With Dreamers

It’s contagious

you begin to see

and to dream

and to grow

With Dreamers

They are the ones

who seem to bounce on their toes

as they smile

to themselves

These Dreamers

So please tell me

of your dreams and hopes

that together we may

smile and laugh and be

Dreamers

17 Nov. 86

Trust

Trust

     Today as I once again maneuvered through a road construction detour, I slowly drove in an old neighborhood. The homes well cared for, trees tall and majestic, even the last dying flowers of fall stood comfortable in their surroundings. Then I noticed something as I pasted the elementary school that gave me pause and caused me to reflect.
     I believe we are born with certain instincts. Traits inherited from our parents, or from our eternities before. Some people love without hesitation, some understand beyond their years, some fear spiders and snakes. Yet we all have varying degrees of so many things. One is trust.
Trust seems to begin at birth as a new mother suckles her son and trusts he will be strong and courageous in life. Parents trust as the child struggles to stand and falls again and again, ofttimes gaining badges of bruises, scraps, and cuts, nevertheless each time getting back up again.
     Going to school we trust those to whom our children’s future is entrusted. We trust the education will be of life not just sentence structure. We trust they will have a broken heart and break a few along the way.
     We trust the future spouse they bring home, will love them forever. One trusts they will understand the marriage commitments, and honor those covenants. We trust they will be good parents, and we will love the grandchildren no matter what.
     As I drove past the school today, I was reminded of these things because a hundred bikes were parked in the stalls, on the grass, and on the sidewalk. None of them had locks, because each owner had faith in his classmates and trust in society, that at the end of the school day, their bikes would still be there to take them home.